


Sensitivity Training

by huevoplatano



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Groping, Incest, Masturbation, Obsession, Painful Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 01:58:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14345553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huevoplatano/pseuds/huevoplatano
Summary: After discovering a homeless Morticia, Cop Rick takes pity on her by letting her live with him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> it begins :) (will add tags as I update)

Work sucked.

Well, okay, maybe that was too harsh a statement, but it definitely wasn't the same. It didn't used to suck so bad, but that was before he'd murdered his partner. Yeah. Murdered. That word haunted him like fuck every night till he lay awake in bed peering over at the alarm clock and realizing it was three in the morning and he hadn't even closed his eyes yet.

Even though he tried to convince himself it was a--if it were even the appropriate word--necessary evil. His partner was committing crimes like murdering other Mortys and taking payroll from a drug lord. Something that was very, very against the law. The short time he had spent with his Morty, he'd lost count of how many codes he'd violated--how many laws he'd broken that he was letting slide by in favor of putting his trust in him, but. Jeez.

He really didn't want to have to pull that trigger.

Every time he thought about it, he was overcome with guilt, despite the part of his mind saying over and over that it was the right thing to do. But, was it? He'd murdered his partner in cold blood after saying he would put his faith in him--but if he hadn't pulled that trigger, then he would've gotten killed. Honestly, no matter how many times he played over the situation in his head, trying to think of alternate routes he could have taken, they all ended muddy. No situation was a good situation. No ending was going to be perfect, and no matter how he looked at it, Rick had done all he could, even after turning himself in and accepting the punishment that would've awaited him.

But.

He looked up from his desk, his eyes tired and heavy lidded after gazing at the pile of paperwork for what felt like hours at this point. His focus fell to the water cooler, or rather, the Ricks who were gathered around the water cooler. They weren't actually drinking water, but they were certainly engaged in conversation. Laughing, talking loud, acting drunk even though nobody was allowed to drink on the job (and some of them snuck alcohol in anyway). Though, he couldn't concentrate before on his paperwork, he definitely couldn't concentrate now with all of them being pieces of shit like this.

Okay, that was harsh. Rick didn't actually think his coworkers were pieces of shit. Sometimes they could be, and even though he got annoyed with them from time to time, he usually just took a deep breath and waited it out when things got hectic at work like this. He felt bad for being annoyed at them that he seemed to be the only one in the office trying to get his work done while the rest of them were screwing around, but also felt he didn't have the right to complain about that either. He was still fairly new to his job, fresh out of training (not that fresh), but still enough where he didn't feel too comfortable pushing his weight around everybody else. He wasn't that big of a deal yet.

Trying to ignore everybody else's babbling around him, Rick focused back on his paperwork. There had been a break in at the convenient store down the street from the station last night, and everyone was trying to figure out what in the fuck happened. According to the Morty who ran the store, no merchandise was stolen, but the thief made off with a bunch of money, despite there being no forced entry or any other evidence to suggest a break in even happened.

But. That's what they were here for. Figuring this shit out was part of his job, and he felt like his brain was turning to mush as he felt he'd been staring over documents and security footage all fucking day at this point. And hell, he probably had. It wouldn't be long before everyone called it a day and picked it up in the morning.

"Hey."

Just as he'd engrossed himself back in his work, one of the Ricks from the water cooler sidled over to his desk and rested against the side. When he looked up, he was greeted with a sly grin.

"S-so, the rest of us w-w-were thinking of going to--you know... The Creepy Morty tonight. Th-thought you might want to come?"

Rick shivered at the idea. Not many people in the office knew that's where he'd murdered his partner, even though that shit should've been all over the news, but they were trying to cover up the fact he was the one who shot him. As far as half of his coworkers knew, he was shot in the scuffle by other Mortys.

 But, he also felt a little ill at the idea of that place in general. He'd remembered first walking in there and feeling his chest constrict at the sight of so many Mortys doing...that. To each other. He knew some of his coworkers regularly visited that place and he had no qualms with them before--and he still didn't. But, there was still a weird feeling deep in his gut whenever he did think of that place.

So, he looked back to his papers and shook his head. "No thanks."

The other Rick let out a loud sigh and leaned off his desk. "You're such a--such a-a-a buzzkill. You don't ever want t-to go out drinking either."

Rick shrugged, trying to concentrate on his papers again. It was getting difficult to do that though.

"Y-you need a little fun. O-or something, like, Jesus. T-take some drugs."

"I don't n-need fun, I just need to find out who robbed this store."

The other Rick leaned over to catch a glimpse of his papers and he let out a snort. "Oh. Th-that. I-I-I bet anything the--the owner Morty stole it a-and he's trying to make out like some piece of shit did it."

Rick just shrugged again, still not looking up and now felt a headache approaching from this mess. God, he could really use a drink right now. Probably wouldn't be a good idea for work in the morning as he didn't want to come in with a hangover, but maybe a light drink wouldn't be so bad...

Before he could respond and before the other Rick could say anything else, the door opened and yet another Rick entered, this one carrying what appeared to be a larger pile of paperwork that he looked to be proceeding to dump on Rick's desk.

He sighed. Just as the officer Rick approached, he felt his head split open as his headache came full force and unintentionally let out a groan at the sight of it all.

"Quit your griping--it's work."

He nodded. "I know..." That still didn't stop his head from pounding though.

The Rick who had been leaning against his desk and bothering him suddenly fucked off with the other water cooler Ricks when paperwork was involved and the officer Rick leaned down in his face just as he prepared himself to be stuck at his desk for an additional two hours today.

"Hey, a call just came in from downtown. Somebody said a fight's broken out between some Mortys. Getting real nasty. Not sure what happened whether it's drugs, or bootleg portal fluid, but if it's rowdy enough for complaints, you should go take a look at it." He set the pile of papers down on his desk before giving Rick a more sympathetic look. "Go check it out, break up the fight, then go home."

He nodded, pulling back in his chair, but not before the officer Rick gave him a hard stare.

"And don't shoot them unless you have to."

A nasty chill ran up his spine at that one, but he tried not to let it get to him. Without so much as a second glance at the officer, Rick rose from his desk and gathered up the paperwork he'd been working on into a neat pile for tomorrow before grabbing the patrol car keys and his gun--just in case. No way he was going to use that unless those Mortys were coming at him knives flailing and everything.

Still.

Even as he cranked up the car and began heading downtown, he felt a creep of worry settle down into his stomach. Nobody really gave a fuck if Mortys were fighting each other as that was the norm in this place, but for someone to put in a complaint enough for him to even be driving down there and checking it out--he worried how violent of a scene he was going to see. Or if he was going to have to bite the bullet and shoot another Morty should they come after him if he had to break up a fight.

God, his coworkers could be assholes sometimes. Not that he ever argued with them when he was told to do something. He followed protocol and tried to do the right thing. He didn't want to hurt any Mortys unless it was necessary and he knew unless one of them came at him, he would do everything he could to avoid pulling that trigger on them.

Following the address his supervisor had given him was a pain in the ass. All the houses looked the same (well lack of houses), and the neighborhood was full of Mortys who gave him looks that suggested he could go fuck himself. Rick tried not to focus on them as he drove down the street, his priority being to find that one house and break up what could be a potentially horrible fight. He passed by a few shitty apartments, and a gang of Mortys who looked ready to kick his ass if he dared stop his car at that intersection, and stared down at the address he'd been given.

According to the address, the house should've been right around here...

He looked up again to see a series of shanty-looking houses, and one of them which looked as though the roof had blown off. If it could even be called a house at this point. It was more like a wreckage of what had once been a shack, but the walls were gone, a series of charred black walls surrounding the place, and right in the middle--he saw them.

One Morty on the ground, cowering in fear as another long-haired Morty stood over him, and even from where Rick sat in his car, could see the cowering Morty was bleeding and looked to be in the process of getting the absolute shit kicked out of him as the other Morty pulled him up by the collar of his shirt and began to pummel his face again.

Skidding to a halt, Rick jumped from the car and ran to the scene, making sure his presence and voice were known as he jumped behind the Morty about to smash the cowering Morty's face in. "HEY STOP!" Maybe that was a silly thing to shout, but it definitely got their attention.

The Morty stopped pummeling the cowering Morty and even from where he stood, Rick could hear his labored breathing and gurgling from his throat as he struggled to breathe. Blood was gushing from his nose and mouth and both of his eyes were swollen shut. Holy fuck, he'd really taken a beating...

The long-haired Morty turned to face him and Rick felt his stomach drop the instant he realized he was looking at a Morticia. H-holy _fuck_ , he had never seen a Morticia before, but he knew they were considered rare, even here on the Citadel. Immediately, he felt himself grow stiff, and couldn't tear his gaze away from her stare. Her heavy-lidded stare as she slowly turned to face him. The first thing he became aware of was the eyepatch that covered her right eye, and the apathetic look on her face.

Her hands were covered in blood and there wasn't a scratch on her, it seemed. Whatever fight had broken out here, this Morticia had dominated the fuck out of it. She didn't appear shaken up or bruised--there wasn't a hair out of place.

It was quite unsettling as Rick stood there, hand hovering close to his gun should he need it as he stared at this scene of a blank-faced Morticia beating the shit out of a Morty who was struggling to breathe through all the blood accumulating in his nose and mouth. He felt a cold sweat break out at the base of his neck and he remembered to remain calm. Don't freak the fuck out or anything, because if he did that, he would only provoke them and then he'd have another fight on his hands. The fact Morticia hadn't attacked the other Morty since he arrived was a good thing. Just the fact he was here and that was stopping her put him at an advantage. He had to remain calm and he knew he could talk her out of this.

She seemed to be waiting for him to speak, or to move. One or the other.

Rick moved his hand away from his gun, at least to give her the indication he wasn't going to pull it on her and scare her or freak her out. "H-hey..." Although shaky, he kept his voice calm and low. This wasn't the situation he expected to see upon coming out here and having this opportunity to talk to her was a chance he wasn't going to waste. "Wh-what happened here?" He remained neutral, even though it looked incredibly one-sided and he knew the Morty needed some medical attention right now--he had to back her off him enough to actually do that.

She shrugged, seeming nonchalant as if he had merely asked her about the weather. Slowly, she turned her attention back to Morty and Rick feared for a moment she would unleash more violence upon him, but she only clutched at his collar and pulled him up close to her. "Why don't you tell him?"

Rick swallowed, still trying to remain calm, still trying to keep control of the situation, but also prepared to unfuck anything should shit hit the fan.

Morty gurgled on his speech and it made him cringe at the sound of it as he struggled to speak, when he very obviously could not, but he managed to get the words out, "W-w-we just--we just said you--you looked cute for a--for a girl Morty..."

Suddenly, Morticia released his collar and Rick twitched at the sight, still on his toes should something happen and he need to apprehend her, but he held himself back. Morty dropped to his knees and began to cough, blood splotching the ground below him as he rubbed at his nose and mouth.

Morticia shook her head. "You bothered me." She backed away from him, and Rick took his opportunity then to step in and dropped to his knees to help Morty. He had a med pack in the patrol car, and he risked dropped his guard around Morticia as he helped Morty stand to his feet and helped him move even further away from her as he made his way back to the car to retrieve the med pack.

There wasn't much he could do for his bloody nose, but he rubbed an instant healing solution onto his face and watched as Morty's swollen eyes reduced to their normal size in an instant. Morty squinted for a moment as he held a cloth to his nose before spitting up a small amount of blood. From where he was now, he actually didn't look so bad. That whole situation could have gone a lot worse than it did, but Rick sighed in a small relief as he healed up the Morty enough that he'd stopped bleeding.

When he turned his attention back to Morticia, he found her still standing in the same spot as before, staring at him. She hadn't moved. Hadn't made a sound, or so much as spoken to him again. He could feel a chill run down his spine at the sight of her apathetic stare once more, but he tried not to let it get to him as he once again brought Morty to his feet now that he was healed.

He was going to have to report this, but as he looked over at Morticia, wasn't sure if he really had it in him to charge her with any kind of assault charges. After all, he did get Morty healed, and he didn't know what kind of altercation had really happened, but it sounded like Morty had been bothering her and she was defending herself.

But, to beat him up that badly...

He gulped, as he stole a glance back over in her direction, only to meet her stare once again. At the sight of her eyepatch, he had to wonder if she had gotten some kind of horrific injury from it. Was she missing her eye? Was there an ugly scar under it? Was she just partially blind and used it as a weird fashion statement? It was a weird thing to see, but he couldn't help but be curious about it.

"Um..." He froze for a moment as he fought for what to do as Morty looked like he really didn't want to be here any longer than he had to. Poor kid had been beaten and humiliated enough as it was. "Y-you kids should run along home now. A-and don't fight anymore, o-okay?"

Without any further arguments, Morty took off down the street, not looking back at them, but definitely in a hurried enough trot that Rick could tell he wanted to put distance between himself and Morticia. Turning to face her again, Rick felt himself seize up at the sight of her face. She had been staring at him with the same expression since he pulled Morty to his feet and healed him--that weird lidded expression devoid of emotion--and it was creeping him out.

But, he had a compulsion to ask at the same time, "U-um, s-s-so, why don't you run along home, o-okay?" He was stupidly shaky and nervous, but he couldn't help but feel unnerved by the way she was looking at him.

Finally, he saw a change of expression, if it could be called that, as she turned her gaze to the ground, to a patch of rotten grass underneath her feet. "I don't have a home."

He paused, raising his eyebrow at her statement. "Nowhere?" That wasn't necessarily unusual, but he figured a Morticia on the Citadel, especially a Morticia who was considered rare, would have a home. He was surprised some upshot Rick hadn't wanted her for his sidekick yet and taken her in.

Rick stopped himself as a thought crossed his mind. Was that why she was out on the streets picking fights? Was it because she was homeless and had nowhere to go?

"Don't you have a Rick?"

He didn't expect the flash of emotion to come across her face--that moment she looked up at him, and he thought he saw...anger? For a moment. But then, she retreated back to her normal expression and shook her head.

"No, I don't have a Rick."

"I-I'm sorry." He really was. Some Mortys got upset at the mention of having a Rick, as though that was what defined them, and he knew at the mere mention of that, this Morticia was one of them. But still, the thought of her being homeless, having to fend for herself without even having something as basic as a roof over her head--he couldn't help but feel his chest constrict for her. For what she must have endured out here by herself, trying to survive, probably carving herself into a stone cold hardass so that nothing would hurt her anymore.

That was sad.

No Morty, especially a Morticia, should be homeless like this.

He wondered about her eyepatch too, if she were blind on that side. If that were the case, that was even worse for her--being out here trying to live day by day while putting up with the bullshit of this place. He wanted to ask her about it, but he didn't want to be insensitive and upset her about it. It was probably the cause of something traumatic, and he would only be making things worse by asking her about it.

Rick bit his lip, trying to think of what to do. He knew of programs where they could place Mortys in what was basically a foster care program, but he also knew it was a piece of shit. This Morticia wouldn't survive there. If she broke out into fights with random Mortys on the street, they would kick her out for being too aggressive and not give her a chance at all. It was a pretty strict, and also bullshit, program.

He bit his lip again. The fuck did he do? He was faced with a Morticia who had told him she was homeless after he'd just witnessed her beat up another Morty, and he was conflicted on what to do. He certainly couldn't leave her out here, that was for goddamn sure. He would be a failure at his practice if he was faced with this information only to turn her away and pretend nothing happened.

He was supposed to charge her for assault and let the police force deal with her, but he knew they wouldn't treat her right. If he charged her with assault, they would treat her like a garden variety criminal and that wouldn't be good for her. He couldn't just take a homeless Morticia and place her directly in jail--or worse. He knew about the Mortys who fucked up got shot out into space to suffocate to death.

Rick shook his head to himself. No. He couldn't do that to her.

"H-hey, um..." He trailed off, trying to think. Was he really considering this? Maybe his softer nature was getting to him, but he couldn't just leave her here. He couldn't. "U-until we find you a home, wh-why don't you stay with me?" It was awkward to say, much more awkward to propose to her, but he definitely saw it.

He saw when her eyes lit up then, a strange change in expression from her blank face, and he felt as though he was seeing the first signs of real life in her. She looked shocked, even a little thrown off, as though this were an elaborate trick and he was going to rip the rug from under her feet.

He could see it in the way she was standing, how her defenses were still up. She didn't believe him.

But, he smiled at her. He wanted to show her he was genuine, and he meant what he said. "C-come on, I can't leave you out here after you've t-told me you're homeless. It's--it's a crappy apartment, but if you want, you can stay with me." He definitely didn't want to force her, but he wasn't sure what to do if she refused his offer. He would have to look into alternate programs for her and find her a home, if he could. If there was anything better for her. But surely, there was something better for her.

Morticia was still looking at him as though he were joking, and she seemed to be lost in thought for a long moment. He saw as she looked to the ground, stared at her feet, then back up at him to stare at him as though studying him. She wasn't giving him that weirdly creepy apathetic look any longer, but he could see a curious intensity in her expression.

"I-I even h-have a room I could fix for you. It's got junk in it now, b-but I mean, I could clean it out for you." Rick knew he was blubbering now, but he was starting to lose his calm composure and was desperate to convince her that living on the streets wasn't good for her.

Despite his rambling, she gave him a hard stare before finally replying. "Why?"

And he froze for a moment, feeling the sweat accumulate at his neck once again. "B-because, you don't need to be on the streets like this. N-nobody should be homeless." That was the truth. She had to believe he was worried about her, that he would be overcome with guilt if he knew he hadn't tried everything in his power to make sure Morticia got into a good home. Even if this wasn't by his own fault, even if he had nothing to do with the circumstance that led her to this type of life, he couldn't sit by and watch this happen.

But, he watched her as she seemed to be fighting with herself over what to do. He could see the smallest ticks in her expression as she contemplated his offer, as he watched her stand motionless in the same spot for what felt like hours.

When too much silence had passed, Rick spoke to her, in as gentle a voice as he could muster. "Sweetie?"

And Morticia nodded, looking back up at him with that same lidded expression. "Okay. I'll go with you."


	2. Chapter 2

Rick risked stealing a glance to his side as he drove down the street, ignoring the glares and stares he received as he passed by several crowds of Mortys while on his way out of the neighborhood. Morticia was seated in the passenger seat, hands folded neatly in her lap. She didn't look up at him, or out of the window as he drove, but focused her gaze to her hands where she twiddled with her fingers, as though either nervous to be near him, or simply moving to move for something to do.

Moving his gaze back to the road, Rick concentrated on getting them out of the neighborhood without hitting any Mortys who seemed way too eager to walk out in front of the car, as though wanting to be hit, or hoping to stop him so that they could get into a fight, but he kept his distance from any crowds and only drove off on the sidewalk if it meant avoiding confrontation from the opposite side of the street.

Finally, when he'd made it out of the crappy neighborhood and back into the nicer part of town, he could feel himself relax as he melted back into his seat when he didn't have to focus on so many things at once--like accidentally hitting a Morty on the street. He could just drive. His apartment wasn't too far from the office, but he wanted to get Morticia there as soon as possible. Stealing another glance to the side at her, he noticed she seemed very tense. Whether that was from nerves because of him because she didn't trust him, or because she was just socially awkward and didn't know how to act in front of others, he didn't know. But, it was probably the former.

He could tell without having to interrogate her that Morticia didn't trust him one bit. Even though he'd poured his heart out and said she could stay with him--something that he meant, it wasn't like he'd lied about it--he could see it in her stance. Her body language. She was stiff and folded into herself, refusing to look at him. Ever since getting into the car, she hadn't spoken a word to him, glanced in his direction, and barely moved a muscle. Rick couldn't imagine what she could've possibly been through to make her so untrusting of people like this, but he was going to show her that he meant no harm.

Although, once he got her to his apartment, he wasn't really sure where to go from there. He didn't really have the funds or the space to take care of someone--not that he wouldn't mind taking care of her. He just figured she would be much better off somewhere else. He could still look into programs for her, maybe look for a Rick who would be willing to take her.

But, until then, she was staying with him, and he didn't mind the company, though he'd never really had his own Morty before, and it had been an awfully long time since he'd had to take care of someone. This was going to be awkward as hell, but he would make it work.

Just as the thought left his mind, he found himself pulling up to the curb where his apartment was and shut the car off. Rick opened the car door before climbing out and expected Morticia to do the same, but one glance over at the other side of the car let him know she was still seated in the passenger seat and hadn't moved.

He bent down, looking at her through the open door. She was still staring at her hands, seeming to be lost in thought as her eyes glazed over and she picked at her fingernails. She seemed kind of...out of it? Which was a strange scene to see after watching her beat the shit out of Morty earlier. To go from that to, well _this_ , was a little strange. He couldn't read her expression, because her face was blank, and maybe it was because she'd been homeless for so long, but Rick found it a little sad she felt the need to hide her emotions. It was about trust, and he knew they'd just met, but he wanted her to know that he meant no harm and he wasn't lying.

"Um..." He struggled for what to say, feeling awkward as he stood there, bent over the car and trying to think of the best thing to say to her. "W-we're here. A-at my apartment."

It was then that Morticia finally lifted her head from whatever trance she'd been in, and looked at him, though he still couldn't read her expression, it still made him a little nervous to see that she didn't emote at all as her gaze fell past him and instead to the building that rested behind them. A few silent seconds passed in which she didn't reply, or move, and he wondered if she wasn't going to come out of the car at all, but she finally unhooked her seatbelt before opening the door and climbing out of the car.

Rick straightened himself back up as she walked toward him, standing at his side, and finally spoke. “You really took me to an apartment.”

The sweat accumulated at the base of his neck, but he could do little but nod. “O-of course I did. Wh-where did y-you think I was taking you?” That tone in her voice suggested surprise, but also he could hear some hint of relief. This really was sad, and he hated that she had to go through something like this.

Morticia shrugged, reaching up to hug onto her arms and looked off to the side and down at her shoes. “I don’t know. The police station. Figured you would’ve arrested me for beating up that Morty.”

Honestly, he should have, that’s what he was supposed to do, but—he turned off and looked down with her. He didn’t know. The more he thought about this, the more he thought he couldn’t really do that to her. Morticia had a strange predicament, and he felt if he turned her over for that, the system wouldn’t be too kind to her, no matter what walk of life she came from.

How did she end up in the Citadel? She must’ve had a Rick at one point, or else she wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be surprised if someone kidnapped her, because she was considered a rare Morty, but then got caught up into trouble. Maybe she ran away? Rick had images of some posh uppity Rick keeping her around for a trophy and Morticia getting fed up with it and planning her grand escape, only to wind up homeless.

He didn’t know what kind of trouble she’d gotten herself into. For all he knew, she had enemies here who were looking for her. As much as he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable and do this, he would have to question her at some point to get an idea what he was up against. After all, if he went through the trouble of finding her a home, only for some jackass Rick to take her in, he might be putting her back in a situation she was trying to get away from in the first place.

Rick blinked. Or maybe he had this all wrong. There was no telling here at the Citadel, really. But, all he knew was that if he were a crooked Rick, he’d be dying to gets his hands on a Morticia. It was no wonder she beat up on people the moment they laid eyes on her. She probably had no choice.

Shaking these thoughts of his head, he opted instead to focus on positive things. Like getting her into the apartment and showing her around. He could show her that everything was alright and she was in good hands, and she didn’t have to have her claws out all the time around him. But, he didn’t blame her for being skeptical about this situation. If he’d been in her shoes, he would’ve been distrusting of someone claiming to want to take him in off the streets just like that too.

“L-let’s go inside.” He gestured for her to make the first move, that she could walk up the front steps first, and she paused for a moment, looking up from her spot on the ground to stare at him once again.

He could still see it in the way she looked at him—like she was studying him, and if he could have seen in the inside of her head, would have seen the gears turning as she thought for a moment, as though still contemplating whether or not she even wanted to do this. Morticia said nothing, and Rick felt himself grow nervous all over again as he fought for what to say. He wasn’t used to dealing with troubled Mortys like this. His experience had been in more violent encounters, but not like this. And especially not with girls. He wasn’t really sure what to do.

“Y-you don’t have to.”

“I’ll go.”

The moment he brought up the fact Morticia had a choice in the matter, she would finally answer him. He noticed that last time too. Maybe she just needed a little extra reassurance from time to time? He was still having a hard time figuring out exactly how she felt and what her personality was like, as most Mortys he met were outgoing and never shut the fuck up about everything, but Morticia was very quiet, reserved, and he could see even in the way she moved, she would shrink in on herself. The way she walked up the steps was slow and deliberate, as if each move was calculated and careful, like the ground below her would swallow her up if she made the wrong move.

He wondered if maybe she was just shy? Maybe he had gotten the wrong impression from her since—well—he _did_ meet her by seeing her slam her fists into another Morty’s face, but maybe that was just horrible timing on his part. He had assumed she was a hard-pressed person by what the Citadel had turned her into, but maybe she was just hard to read. Maybe Rick was the one who was bad at this? Not all Mortys had to be the same.

When she walked up the steps, he was right behind her, digging for his keys from his pocket before producing them and unlocking his front door. His apartment was pretty crappy, but it wasn’t as bad as some of the places around here. At least he lived in a relatively nice neighborhood and he was even within walking distance of the mini market if he got the munchies at midnight.

Still.

His apartment was meant for one person, and he felt embarrassed as he opened the door and Morticia walked into his dirty entranceway. He hadn’t had time to clean lately, as he’d been bogged down with work, but that didn’t mean he was a dirty person. He just hadn’t had the time lately, what with all the cases he was forced to focus on. Usually when he got home, he ate dinner, showered, and slept. That was his daily routine, so having someone else where was...well, awkward.

“S-sorry it’s so messy, I-I-I haven’t had a chance t-to clean up in a while.”

As he shut the door behind him, Morticia moved off to the side as though still uncomfortable with being here, but he did see her perk up once they walked in and began looking at all his stuff. He didn’t have much here, just the basics. There were no family photos or knick knacks or anything like that, but he did have a tv and a couch and the like. The basics.

She shrugged, eyeing a pile of clothes on his couch he had tossed from the dryer but hadn’t folded in about two days. “It’s fine. I’ve seen worse.”

Somehow, that statement only made him feel embarrassed and he felt a compulsion to clean up his scattered laundry and vacuum his floor. But, he had no idea he would be bringing her home with him today, or else he would’ve tidied up beforehand. He could always tidy up once they got settled.

As he passed her by, he could hear a loud gurgling come from her stomach just as she reached up to cover her middle as though that would stifle the noise. Rick stopped at the noise and turned back to her, his face falling. “Oh sweetie, are you hungry? Wh-why didn’t you say so?”

For once, he could see signs of discomfort on her face as she looked off to the side, refusing to meet his worrying gaze, and shook her head. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is though. It-it’s gotta be hard for y-you to get food if y-y-you’re homeless. Come on.” He gestured towards his sofa where the remote was. “Wh-why don’t you sit down, watch some cartoons, and I’ll fix you s-some dinner?”

Not moving, Morticia continued to hold onto her stomach, but she looked up at him, giving him a confused look like he had grown an extra head. “...Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Just what in the hell had happened to her to make her think eating food wasn’t a big deal? Jesus, he had his work cut out for him on this one.

“I mean…” She trailed off, staring off at his laundry piled to the couch again, before continuing. “Why do you care?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He knew nothing he said to her now was going to make an impact, as she was still quite obviously distrusting of him, but Rick bent down onto his knees then at that moment to get level with her, and gave her the gentlest smile he could muster. “Sweetie, I don’t know wh-what’s happened out there to y-you, but it’s okay now. I-I’m not going t-to turn you over to a correctional facility o-or the police, o-or any kind of foster care i-if you don’t want me to. Y-you’re safe here, okay? I’m not going t-to do anything bad to you or t-turn you over to anyone bad. I-I’m here to help you.”

It was subtle, so subtle if he hadn’t been watching her face, he wouldn’t have noticed, but he saw when her face lit up then, and he could see a curious kind of light behind her only eye, when a small tinge of blush coated her cheeks and he only continued to smile at her, but she quickly looked away from him, as if knowing he could see this display and wanted to hide it. “So you…” She bit her lip. “You’re serious about...about me staying here then?”

He nodded. “Of course, I-I’m serious. My home is your home.” He paused for a moment, before deciding to add, “Unless you want me to find someone else to take you in?”

She shook her head. “Why would you go through all this trouble? It doesn't make any sense…”

He could see the small tinge of blush on her face deepen, but he just smiled at her. “Because I care about you.”

Her head snapped back up at that, and he thought he saw a flash of—anger? For a split second, before she only glared at him through lidded eyes. “Like hell. You just met me.”

The hostility coming from her was obvious, if not from her voice alone which had grown oddly low, Rick tried not to let it intimidate him when he gave her a gentle smile and kept his voice neutral. “I promise I-I won’t turn you into the police. Y-you can stay here as long as you want, and if you don’t want, you can leave. But…” He bit his lip. “If you’re going to leave, a-at least let me feed you first.”

There was a long pause from her end, in which her glare softened, though still prominent, and he worried he had angered her enough to actually make her storm out that door. He didn’t want that. Rick hadn’t meant to strike a nerve in her enough to upset her enough that she ran away, and he definitely didn’t know if he could handle that on his conscious if he knew she was out there starving on the streets, but he waited patiently for her to respond.

It felt like hours, but Morticia’s expression finally softened enough that she had reverted back to normal, and she sighed. “Do you actually want me here?”

Rick nodded. “Of course! I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t want you around.”

A little less hesitant, but still somewhat shyly, Morticia looked up at him and he saw her cheeks turn pink again. When she spoke, there was an odd hiccup in her voice, it was high-pitched and nervous. “O-okay…” It made a strange feeling fall deep into his stomach, because he thought it was kind of cute. Maybe she was finally getting comfortable around him?

“So, what w-would you like for dinner?” He began to make his way to the kitchen, and although he didn’t have much in his arsenal of food right now, if he had to, he didn’t mind going down to the mini mart to get something if she wanted something specific.

Morticia shrugged, still not looking up at him, but he could see how her shoulders had fallen and she was becoming somewhat more lax around him. “Doesn’t matter.”

There was a pizza in the freezer. It might take a while, but he had no doubts in his mind that Morticia would enjoy a nice pizza. Whatever she’d had to eat while out on the streets, he didn’t really want to think about. There was a strong possibility she’d gone days without food, or had to resort to stealing in order to survive, but she wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

Stepping out into the kitchen, Rick took the frozen pizza from the freezer and turned his oven on. While he pulled out a pan and prepared to chuck it into the oven, he looked off into the living room to see Morticia still standing next to the entranceway, not moving, but staring at him once more. He didn’t necessarily feel any hostility from her stare, but it still made him a little nervous having her stare at him like that.

“Y-you can—um—w-watch tv i-if you want, sweetie.” He gestured toward the remote that was lying on his seat cushion and Morticia followed where he’d pointed and stared at that instead. For a moment, he didn’t think she was going to move, but before he could open his mouth and ask her if something was wrong, she suddenly stepped away from the entryway and plopped down onto the couch, although he could see how stiff she still was, even as she sat down, picking up the remote and turning the tv on. The tv flared to life and some news program began to play.

Even from where he was in the kitchen, Rick could hear the news anchor Rick talking about the robbery he was currently supposed to be investigating and how the possibility of corruption had popped up and now people were suspecting the Morty who ran the store. Rick grimaced a little as he placed the pizza in the oven and set the temperature. He didn’t want to think about work right now, even though this was his job and he should have, by all means, been continuing his investigation even after he got home, but.

He had Morticia to worry about. He doubted very seriously if he brought her up at work that his coworkers would give a damn, but he couldn’t risk word getting around and someone reprimanding him for not turning her in. He was technically breaking the law by letting her off the hook like this. Even though he could always lie and say the fight hadn’t been that bad, it was illegal to assault another Morty in public, though he saw some Ricks get away with that type of thing all the time, he always thought it was sad how stuff like that slipped under the rug.

But, as he looked up from the oven to the back of Morticia’s hair as she sat at the couch, with almost perfect posture, he couldn’t help but feel for her. It would be cruel of him to go through all this trouble of saving her just to toss her into a system he knew wasn’t perfect, if that was any evident by the fact he didn’t get in trouble for murdering his partner and breaking tons of rules. But. Morticia, although very reserved and kept to herself, seemed to be someone who had suffered through a lot and was only trying to survive.

The least he could do was try and give her a little hope, even if it was here on the Citadel.

While the food cooked and Rick had little left to do other than wait for the timer to go off, he made his way back into the living room and sat himself down on the couch next to Morticia who hadn’t changed the channel and sat watching the news with vacant eyes. Rick felt compelled to say something, to try and start conversation, and cleared his throat. “D-do you, um, like cartoons?”

She nodded.

He perked up a little. “Y-you could ch-change the channel, if you want. I-I don’t h-have interdimensional cable hooked up yet, b-but th-there’s cartoons a-and stuff i-if you want…” He trailed off, feeling awkward when Morticia only stared at the screen and didn’t respond.

He wanted to ask her about her eyepatch, but he also didn’t want to upset her. All the questions he had about her circumstance, what led her to this type of life, were right there on the tip of his tongue, but he held himself back. Now wouldn’t be a good time to start inquiring her about something like that. She was probably still very vulnerable and needed time to adjust to something like this. Hell, she was probably uncomfortable being around him, and still didn’t believe him when he said she could stay here. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a spare room for her, he would just have to clean it out at some point in order to fit a person in there. But, he wished she would understand he wasn’t going to give her an offer like this just to take it away from her, he wish—

Rick was so lost in thought at that moment, his focus being on the tv even though he wasn’t absorbing any of the information at all, he barely registered when he felt something touch his crotch. It was so off the wall that he literally jumped when he looked down and saw that Morticia had reached over and cupped her hand over his bulge, that he almost flew off the couch. She hadn’t even been subtle about it, she just—grabbed him. And when he jumped, she jumped, her expression confused when he reeled as far back on the other side of the couch as he could.

Had she really just done that? Did Morticia just—grab his crotch? The way she was looking at him, like she was taken aback he had leapt away from her, and he felt heat come out onto his face as he pulled himself off the couch and stood away, trying to collect himself and calm the hell down. It felt like his heart was going a million miles a minute, but he turned back to Morticia who hadn’t moved from her spot, but was staring up at him, still with that look of confusion on her face, and he managed to spit out, “Wh-what—what are you doing?”

Her response was instant for once. “Isn’t that why you sat next to me?”

Holy hell, he felt his face gush and he had to look away from her, but he couldn’t hold back the nerves that billowed out with his voice. “N-no! I-I was—what the hell—I was just g-going to watch tv with you!” His heart was still going, and he felt like if he didn’t calm down, he was going to have a heart attack right then and there. Just what the fuck had this Morticia been through to make her up and grab his junk like that? What made her think that was what he wanted?

She looked so taken aback too, like he had offended her, and curled back in on herself while on the couch. He saw what could only be a look of disbelief on her face, before she sighed and bunched her knees up to her chin, hugging herself. “Whatever.”

He was still standing, heart racing, not able to believe what just happened, but trying to calm himself down. Maybe he’d overreacted. Maybe it was an accident…? But, the way she acted, it was definitely a deliberate move on her part. But, what had he done to make her think he wanted her to—grab his crotch? Holy hell, the thought made his face heat up all over again. And he finally took a breath before feeling his muscles relax once more as he fought to calm down.

“Y-you startled me is all.” Even though she had grabbed his junk out of nowhere, of course that would startle him, but he couldn’t think of one single thing he’d said to give off the message he had wanted her to do that. Was it the way he was sitting? Did he come off as a creep to her? What in the fuck had happened to her to make her think he wanted her to do that? Maybe it was a defensive act and he had scared her. Maybe his plan backfired and the whole time he was trying to appear unthreatening, he’d really freaked her out and she was retaliating in the only way she knew how.

Rick gulped, trying to think of some way to fix this, if he had upset her somehow with what he said.

“L-look, i-if I scared you, I’m sorry.” He tried to speak as gently as possible, showing her he meant no harm, and while she had freaked him out, he knew this had to be some weird defense mechanism she was doing because he’d done something wrong. Why else would she do that?

But, the look she gave him, he didn’t expect.

She glared at him through her one lidded eye and spoke in a low voice again. “You’re _sorry_?” And he could hear the hostility in her voice once again. If he didn’t defuse the situation, Morticia might grow violent and he might not have a choice in apprehending her this time. He didn’t want to do that though.

So, he nodded, now calmed down, but still trying to show her he meant no harm.

Morticia crossed her arms from her position and refused to look at him, instead looking back to the tv and frowning. “You’re sorry…” She repeated, but he could see, even from where he stood, whatever anger in her from before was slowly coming down.

What in the world could he have done to set her off like this? Rick tried to think back to all he said, all the movements he’d made, even the eye contact he’d made with her, that would threaten her enough to freak her out like that. But, no matter what he’d done, he had only tried to be gentle and calming to her the whole time she’d been here. But, maybe he’d made a mistake and hadn’t realized along the way?

She wasn’t like the other Mortys he had to deal with, who came at him fists flailing and guns blazing. They wore their emotions on their sleeves, and usually told him what was wrong right off the bat, but Morticia was holding everything in. He couldn’t get a read on her, because he didn’t understand what she was thinking, if she was even scared to be here, or how okay she was with living in his house.

She was, in all honesty, a troubled Morty, and if he was going to put up the effort to let her live with him, he had to be sensitive to her feelings as well, no matter how complex they were. If she didn’t want to tell him what had gone wrong, he couldn’t question her about it. If she had weird defensive mechanisms, like—grabbing his crotch, then he would have to set grounds rules and say that wasn’t okay to do.

But for now, he let out a sigh and stood awkwardly next to the sofa as she had sunken back in on herself and continued watching tv. He would just have to be more careful around her and not upset her like that anymore.

So, to lighten the mood, and save himself from his own thoughts, Rick smiled and tried to be cheerful as the timer beeped, letting him know the pizza was almost ready. “I hope y-y-you’re hungry for pizza.”

From her spot on the couch, Morticia made a small noise, but one he could only assume was “Yeah”.

As he moved back into the kitchen, Rick could feel the sweat accumulating at the base of his neck as he checked the timer on the oven and watched as the cheese melted on the pizza through the door. Morticia hadn’t moved from her spot on the couch, but he watched her from the kitchen, watched as she silently watched tv and curled into herself.

He couldn’t help but think what the fuck he’d gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic isn't going to be fluffy btw :) those tags still have meaning so don't let what's happening in the fic now fool you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOO THIS FIC HAS SOME AMAZING ASS FANART 
> 
> https://twitter.com/moldyeggs/status/988017926526521344 (I LOVE U)

Breakfast was a little awkward that next morning. He’d felt bad he couldn’t offer Morticia his bed, but his bedroom was so messy. The couch was a much better option at this point, and he’d brought her a spare pillow and blanket for her. Not that she seemed to mind, but Rick still felt guilty not offering her an actual room to stay in. He was sure she would appreciate having some privacy, but there wasn’t much he could offer her until he got his junk room cleaned out.

And it wasn’t like it was meant to be a bedroom either, but he was confident once he cleaned it out, he could fit a bed and some furniture in it at least. At least it would be something for her—much better than the couch.

When he woke up that next morning, he was surprised to see her sitting upright on the couch, her hair messy from sleep and looking as though she were confused by his presence. He’d smiled at her, told her good morning, and went to the kitchen to fix them breakfast. He offered to let her watch tv, but Morticia didn’t seem interested in it today. And honestly, he was surprised she hadn’t run away in the middle of the night.

There were moments he’d wanted to come out of his room and check on her, but he also didn’t want to seem overbearing and freak her out by doing that. Distance. Patience. He had to give her those things if he wanted her to get comfortable around this place—and around him. What happened the night before, when she—grabbed him out of nowhere—was still on his mind, and he’d been dying to press her about it, but also holding himself back from going at her with too many questions.

He didn’t want to scare her off. And while it was a weird thing to do to someone, he didn’t want to risk bringing up some bad memories for her. There was no telling what had happened to her out there while being homeless on the Citadel, but he could only imagine it wasn’t anything good.

As they sat at the breakfast table, eating the pancakes he’d made, he tried not to let it show that she was making him a little nervous by staring at him, but...well, she was. Morticia didn’t seem to care that staring was rude, but she did it anyway, and no matter how often she did it, he couldn’t help but think she was studying him. Waiting for him to make a wrong move that would give her an excuse to distrust him. She still seemed wary of him, even while sitting across the table from him and picking at her breakfast, every time he stole a glance at her, she hadn’t broken her stare.

It was incredibly awkward, so he tried to think of something light-hearted to say to distract her and bring up the mood. “Y-you do like p-p-pancakes, right?” His voice sounded so shaken with nerves, he almost wanted to kick himself. If she heard the uncertainty in his tone, that might make her nervous too. He would have to be better about that.

But, she nodded, either not caring or not noticing how his voice was shaking.

“I-I could—I mean, don’t be afraid to eat all you want, I-I can always make more.”

“Why didn’t you come to me last night?” Her off topic question was so sudden, Rick almost choked on his food mid swallow as he looked up at her.

Her expression was hard to read, as she was a hard to read person, but he could definitely see it—the smallest hints of confusion in her one visible eye as she looked up at him, as though full of longing. He didn’t know what to make of this, but he was also confused by what she meant.

“D-did I not bring you enough blankets? Were you cold?” Oh shit, had he not made her comfortable enough? He didn’t think his couch was that lumpy, but maybe she’d had a hard time sleeping on something like that. Maybe that’s why she seemed so out of it this morning. Damn, he was going to have to clean out that room fast and get her a proper bed.

Morticia only stared, her expression falling, and he saw it when she lowered her gaze to stare at him through her lidded eye. “Are you fucking with me?” Even her voice had changed in pitch, and it made Rick freeze up at the sound of it. It wasn’t angry by any means, but… He couldn’t figure it out. The sweat had accumulated once again and he sat there frozen, trying to scramble a coherent sentence together.

“Wh-what d-do you mean? I-I know the c-couch isn’t ideal, b-but I’m gonna g-get you a proper bed soon, I-I promise.”

This time, she seemed to almost roll her eyes, but instead stared down at her food, not replying to him. Several awkward seconds passed in which neither of them said anything, and Rick struggled to think of something positive to say again, something that would make her feel better, but Morticia opened her mouth then to speak. “I think I get it now.” She looked up at him, absolutely no humor in her tone. “You’re just stupid.”

He was at a loss for that one. Had he done something wrong—or said something wrong? He struggled with everything he’d said to her, even the things he’d said last night. He was always trying to be calm and gentle with her, always letting her know she had every right to leave (even if he didn’t want her to), and he let her know he would take care of her and wouldn’t turn her in, but she still seemed to have trouble believing any of what he said was genuine.

Not that he blamed her. He wasn’t expecting her to throw all her trust into him at once. He knew something like this would take time, and he was willing to give her all the time she needed.

The only thing he could think to say back to her was, “I-I’m sorry…” although awkwardly as he looked down at his pancakes.

Morticia sighed at his statement, seeming irritated by his apology more than anything else. “Are you serious?”

He looked up. “What?”

She only stared. “Are you serious? About me staying here and all that bullshit?”

“O-of course I’m serious! Sweetie, I—” He cut himself off, standing from the table as he was about to rant about how he meant everything that he said, how he was only concerned about her well-being and wanted to give her a nicer place to stay, but.

Of course, she didn’t believe him, because he hadn’t actually done anything yet.

He froze, feeling sweaty again as Morticia stared up at him, having not moved from her spot, her expression falling back into her blank slate. Of course, she was having trouble taking him seriously when all he’d done was give her his couch to sleep on and _promise_ her these things without actually giving her anything yet. He hadn’t committed to—you know, doing anything.

He took a breath. “I-I’ll call out of work today. And—and we’ll go downtown to the furniture place, okay? W-we’ll get you a bed, and—and—and some clothes, and whatever else you want. I-I’ll clean out my spare room _today_.” It wasn’t fair to make her sleep on the couch for another night, not when she’d been out on the streets for who knew how fucking long at this point. No, Morticia deserved much better than his crappy apartment, but he was going to give her everything he could right now. At least a bedroom, at least her own bed. She deserved that much, at least.

“Are you serious?” She looked so shocked in her spot at the table, having not moved, but he could see the subtle changes in her expression, though still hard to read, he definitely picked up on it when her eyes widened. “You mean it?”

“Yes, sweetie, I mean it.” He smiled at her, as softly as he could. “Let’s go after breakfast, o-okay?”

Morticia looked back down to her pancakes, as though she wasn’t going to answer, and fiddled with her fingers back and forth, picking at her nails, but she nodded. When she finally answered, it was so soft, Rick barely heard it, but he thought he could hear a small tinge of hope to her tone. “Okay…”

* * *

 

Rick had a small fear that going out in public with Morticia would be a disaster, or if not a little strange, but he ended up being surprised by how well-behaved she was. He wasn’t sure why he thought she would gut every Morty she saw, because, well, he did meet her by seeing her beat the shit out of one. It wasn’t fair to judge her based on their first meeting and he knew that, even though he couldn’t help being a little wary of how she would react in public. She was reserved after all, not a violent person.

But god, did they stare.

Just being out in public with her, Rick felt like a huge target had been plastered on his back for some reason. Everywhere they went, he caught sight of the other Ricks staring at them. He knew it was because of her. Morticias were a rare kind of Morty, after all, and he felt nervous just being out with her. Like someone would come over and try to snatch her away at any given moment. He knew all he had to do was assert authority over these other Ricks if one ever got in his face, but it was difficult to do when he wasn’t in uniform.

Morticia clung to him like he would blow away in the wind the whole time they were out. It surprised him, considering how distrusting she was of him, but the moment they walked out in public, she grabbed his arm and didn’t let go. Not that he minded. If that type of thing gave her comfort, he would let her cling to his arm till his whole limb went numb if she wanted. He thought it was kind of cute actually. Seeing her this shy while out with him.

When they finally got to the furniture store, Morticia didn’t let up on him, even when they were inside the (somewhat) safety of the building. The salesman Rick greeted them and while Rick noticed him staring at Morticia, tried not to draw too much attention to that fact as he led her over to the bed frames, away from him.

“S-see anything you like, sweetie?”

She shrugged, appearing as though she were about as interested in the bed frames as he was to get shot, which was to say, not at all. After glancing over a couple of them, she shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to get me anything.”

“B-but we came here for you. T-to get you a bed.”

“Then just get the cheapest thing.”

It both warmed and broke his heart a little that she was thinking about his money situation. Although he wasn’t rich by any means, he still made a decent amount at his job, despite his crappy apartment. He just didn’t have much need for extravagant things by himself. But with her, he didn’t mind spending a little money on her.

It was then that he spotted a rather colorful looking bed frame across the way and pointed to it. “Oh, wh-what about that?”

Morticia looked to where he was pointing and he heard her scoff. “Are you kidding?” The dismissive tone in her voice told him—yeah, no way. He flushed a little at it, thinking surely she would like something colorful to brighten up things, but maybe he was thinking about this all wrong.

No matter where he moved to look at things, she clung to his arm, and he wondered if it was perhaps not so much him she was finding comfort in, but rather her being wary of the other Ricks who stared at her. Not that he blamed her. They were probably looking at her like she was some prize to be won at a carnival, but he tried to block the thoughts from his head as he moved around a table to view another bed frame, but Morticia suddenly tugged at his arm, pulling him back.

“Oh… I kind of like that…”

Following her gaze, he spotted what she was so entranced with. A bedspread with yellow flowers on it, all wrapped up in nice plastic. He had to smile at it, because he wouldn’t have thought she’d be into something so—well, girly. But, he also thought it was so perfect for her.

“O-okay, let’s g-get it, then.”

Again, she gripped at his arm, her voice strangely low when she spoke. “You’d really buy that for me?”

He nodded, smiling even though her attention was still focused on the blanket and not at him. “O-of course I-I’m going to buy it for you. By all means, p-pick out anything else y-you’d like.”

“You’re really going at this hard, huh.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but he wasn’t going to question her about it now. Morticia said a lot of weird things to him, things he wasn’t sure if he should ignore for the time being and wait for her to come to him about—but he was also nervous about questioning her with her lifestyle. It couldn’t have been easy being in the situation she was, and by no means did he want to freak her out where she didn’t trust him.

They stayed in the store for about an hour, picking out a random assortment of things, usually with Rick being the one to point to something in which Morticia scoffed at or flat out said no to, until he was finally packing a minimalist bed frame into the back of his car along with the yellow bedspread she’d picked out (being one of the only items she had actually picked), a bedside table, and dresser for her clothes. The hard part was going to be getting all this crap into his apartment and cleaning out that spare room to fit it all in. He wasn’t entirely sure if the room was going to be big enough for this or not. It wasn’t meant to be a bedroom from the start, but hopefully Morticia wouldn’t be upset with the space.

As he settled into the car, clicking his seatbelt into place and watching as Morticia did the same, he noted how she seemed lost in thought across from him. He had a compulsion to ask her if she was okay, but cranked up the car instead, clearing his throat and trying not to sound awkward when he finally did open his mouth.

“I-is everything alright?”

She shrugged, looking nonchalant, which surprised him. Once they were out of the public setting, so to say, even though they were in his car, he could tell she was much more relaxed in here, if that were even the right word for it. But, she had definitely loosened the tension in her shoulders somewhat, and maybe this whole bored face she was pulling was a front. He knew it couldn’t have been comfortable for her to be stared at by so many Ricks on their outing.

But, she finally responded to him, after a few moments of awkward silence. “I just don’t get why you’re doing all of this for me.” And turned to the window to look away from him. “Why do you care? Do you actually care?”

“Um…” Maybe now was as good a time as any to bring this up, but he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was never going to be a good time, but he had to ask. “Sweetie, did someone hurt you?” When she turned back to look at him, her expression vacant, he couldn’t help but stare at her eyepatch.  Was that why she was so distrusting of others? Maybe someone had gouged her eye out, or she’d gotten into a rough fight. He could definitely see that, as having an eye patch wouldn’t mean anything pleasant by any means. Surely, she wasn’t wearing it as a fashion statement.

She noticed him staring at it and reached up to brush her fingers across it, and he saw the weak humor grow on her features. “What? This? My Rick gave me an implant. It looks real. Here.” With a gentle motion, Morticia lifted her eyepatch to show him what looked like—a normal eye underneath, if not a little discolored as though she had a film over her iris. Rick didn’t mean to reel back when she lifted it, and only stared at her, feeling a weird weight dip into his stomach as she fixed it back over her face. “It was supposed to give me super vision, but his experiment failed, so I can’t see at all in that eye.”

It was strange to hear her talk about her Rick like this—describing something so terrible he had done to her with such a blank expression, as though she didn’t care at all the consequences of it—but Rick felt his heart break for her. “S-so, you did have a Rick? H-he sounds awful. Wh-why would he experiment on y-you like that…”

She tensed then, and he noticed when she gripped at the fabric of her skirt and squeezed, looking away from him again. “He wasn’t...awful.” But there was an unmistakable coat of blush on her cheeks. “I came here to look for him, but I…” She cut herself off, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s not here.”

“Wh-why would you come to look for him here? W-was he t-t-taken away?”

Morticia didn’t respond at first, only squeezing her skirt more, but her face reddened even more and he thought he could see the signs of—pain—on her face. Maybe he shouldn’t have done this. Maybe he shouldn’t have questioned her about this. But, he felt in that moment, even when she didn’t answer, he knew what she would have said.

Her Rick had abandoned her.

For Morticia to look this hurt at the mention of him—Rick wondered how she could have ever survived this long by herself out there. For her to go out of her way to travel to this godforsaken place—just to search for a person like that, someone who, he had no doubt had been cruel to her—he felt his chest ache for her. “Oh, sweetie.” And he reached forward, wrapping his arms around her across the car seat.

She tensed in his hold, and he felt her resist him for a moment, but he was gentle with his hug. He had never met a Morty who would willingly travel to this place, all to find their Rick, but this Morticia—she was something else. For her to do something like that and get stuck in a place like this, Rick knew then he wanted to do everything in his power to help her.

When she tensed, it lasted for only a moment, before he felt her relax, but she didn’t hug him back. He only heard the soft sound of her voice underneath him. “Why...are you doing this?”

“B-because you d-don’t deserve this k-k-kind of life. I know I can’t give you a proper home, or give you everything you want, b-but I-I’m going to m-m-make sure y-you’re taken care of, sweetie.” He moved his fingers through her hair, and she started underneath him. He thought he heard her sniffle, but he wasn’t sure.

When he released her, she was staring up at him, her eyes wide and a look of awe on her face. “Do you...do you mean it?” A tint of pink coated her cheeks when she blushed.

He nodded, smiling. “Of course I mean it. Wh-why would I buy you furniture i-if I didn’t mean it? Y-you can stay at m-my place for as long as you want to. M-my home is y-your home.”

“You…” For the first time since he’d met her, Rick watched as Morticia smiled back at him, a soft, small smile, but a smile nonetheless. “You’re so stupid. I can’t believe you…” But she was smiling, and he couldn’t help but give a sheepish laugh at her words, despite how harsh they sounded. Maybe she hadn’t meant them that way at all, but he was so happy to see her smile in front of him.

“L-let’s go g-g-get some ice cream. T-to celebrate you moving in, o-okay?”

When he pulled away from her to fix himself back in his seat and grip the steering wheel, he watched as she blushed and pulled her hair behind her ear, like a regular embarrassed teenaged girl, and she never broke the small smile the whole while. “I would...love some ice cream, Rick.”

He drove down the street, feeling an odd warm feeling in his stomach at the sight of her smile. She was so beautiful when she smiled—when she blushed.

He was so glad he got to see this side of her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ur probably asking urself, hey huevos, why do you have the noncon tag up there when this fic is so cute and fluffy??? to which i say 
> 
> yes


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i'm kind of slacking on updates but i've been in a weird rut lately. every time i write i feel like it's absolute garbage and i rewrote this chapter like 3 times to the point none of them were even events that connect so it's like ? plus i was drunk when i wrote one of them and not the best of ideas. i went back to reread it later and it was the weirdest pile of fucking word trash i have ever concocted in my life. 
> 
> never doing that again. anyway, enjoy this. :D

Oh, was he _cute_.

Morticia hung back, glancing around the corner of the wall as she stared at him. It hadn't been more than a couple of minutes he had entered the club, and with all the pounding music and blinding lights, she was surprised at herself for having noticed him, as he didn't really stick out from the other Ricks, but damn. There was something about him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

The way he walked by, not seeming to interested in the Mortys who danced and waved their arms around like idiots, as one leaned over to him and asked him if he wanted a dance--to which Rick declined with a soft smile--she found herself perking up at. Most Ricks who came into the Creepy Morty couldn't wait to start grabbing ass and taking Mortys to the backroom to have a ten-minute lap dance with, and various other activities. She wasn't a stranger to what went on behind closed doors, but she preferred not to get too into the action herself.

This was, after all, a place for her to blend into the crowd while taking advantage of the bartender Morty enough to get free drinks. She knew the moment he laid eyes on her that he had a crush, and she didn't waste a single second tugging at his strings as she leaned against the counter, pushing what little cleavage she could through the top of her shirt and giving him a half smirk as she stared up at him through her lidded eyes.

 _Just one_. One little drink that's all.

The sweat formed at the base of his forehead and she knew she had him, watching as the blush accumulated on his cheeks and he poured her a drink with shaky hands. It wasn't unusual for a Morty to fumble over his words with her, after all, she was probably one of the only girls here on the Citadel. Most times she found she was ignored if she blended in, but other times, drew way too much attention. Sometimes it was unwanted. Sometimes.

But then, as she sat at the bar chugging her drink, having it be way too sweet and way too fizzy for her liking (not that she had much of a choice in what she got for free around here), she spotted him across the way. The Rick who entered, looking so unassuming, yet so weirdly out of place at the same time. He didn't look like the type of person who visited places like this often, as she noted he was dressed in business attire, black suit and tie, the works. This place should have been beneath him, but she also had to laugh to herself at the thought, of course, this would be a businessman Rick's perfect getaway from the salary lifestyle. He probably frequented this place on the norm to grab ass and suck cock to hide the fact his life was boring as shit.

But, he ignored the Mortys around him, the ones who asked for dances, or who clambered around him, the ones who probably knew he had a lot of money and wanted to take advantage, but he only gently smiled to them before waving them off. What a weird way to enter a bar, Morticia couldn't help but think as she watched him. To come into a place like this dressed in a suit and tie, but she wondered if he was affiliated with the drug cartel at all. Considering he stuck out, yet looked so uninterested in getting some ass, he looked like he had an agenda as he crossed the room, and headed for the...gaming area?

Despite it being mainly a strip joint, it still had an old-fashioned arcade in the back, being mostly populated with Mortys, sometimes they wanted to play video games. But, it was unusual to see a Rick go back there. It wasn't like there weren't video game arcades on the Citadel, but Morticia couldn't help but be curious why he would come all the way to the Creepy Morty just to play video games.

Once her fizzy drink was finished, she was pleasantly buzzed at least, and hopped down from her seat. The bartender Morty began to sweat again as he scooped up her glass and began to wipe it down. "C-c-can I get you anything else, m-miss?" His cheeks flushed at the word 'miss'.

But, Morticia wasn't really paying him any attention anymore, instead her focus being on the backroom the Rick had entered through, and she shook her head before following after him. The stupid techno music they had playing pounded through her until she felt like her very bones were rattling with every bass drop, and she zig zagged out of the way of the crowds of Mortys who were scattered around the place, blocking her path now and again. But, she made it to the back room, and peeked from around the corner. It was dark inside, mostly for amplified gaming experience, but she found him almost the second she stuck her head around the corner. Immersed in an arcade machine, he was pounding away at the buttons and muttering through his teeth. A quick search around told Morticia he was the only person back here at the moment.

She didn't know why she'd followed him, or why he intrigued her, but she stood watching him for a while, hidden around the corner, a strange feeling dipping into her stomach as she heard him mumble something underneath his breath. He seemed so into his game, she wondered if perhaps the world around him meant nothing at all. He probably wouldn't notice if she walked in and stood beside him. He probably wouldn't notice if she stood beside him and watched him play. Even if she moved in close, to catch the scent of boring businessman on his suit, maybe he wouldn't notice that either.

Just as this thought crossed her mind, he turned suddenly, and made eye contact with her--causing Morticia to jump and whip around the corner of the door, her cheeks hot at the fact he'd caught her spying on him. She was contemplating whether or not to leave and lose herself in the crowd, or go confront him, but she didn't have to make that choice.

A few seconds later, his head popped around the corner and his eyes widened a little at the sight of her, as though the mere sight of her was enough to stop him in his tracks, but then there was no denying the small smile that flashed across his face. It was almost cheeky and Morticia stared up at him as he grinned down at her. "A-are you spying on me? N-n-not that I'm complaining, if you are."

The way that he said that, she couldn't really figure out if he was trying to tease her or not, but she continued to feel the heat gather in her cheeks the longer she stared up at him. There was something about his posture, his face, the way he carried himself--it was all so different from the Ricks she was used to. Mostly loud and annoying, rude and fucking piece of shit to be around, but maybe it was the suit that was throwing her off. Maybe it was giving her the false sense he was a more sophisticated kind of Rick, but she wasn't sure how to answer his question. Of course, the truth of the matter was yes, she'd been spying, but to admit that would be kind of...? She supposed there wasn't any point in bullshitting, so she took a moment to glance away from his face, from his gaze that seemed to be looking right through her, as though he were trying to devour her with his eyes, and she swallowed before speaking up.

"I was...spying..."

Instead of responding to her admittance, he suddenly reached up and touched the bottom curls of her hair. "Something happen to your eye, sweetie?"

Oh, she was used to people questioning her about her eyepatch. Sometimes, she wondered why she bothered wearing it in the first place when there was no point, but her eye was weirdly fogged over and made her look even more intimidating _without_ the eyepatch, but she felt the heat radiate off her face even more at the fact he was _touching_ her now. It was gentle, as he twirled pieces of her hair around his finger, but he didn't tug hard enough to pull. "I, um..." Her voice was failing her as she fought to meet his gaze again, but it was difficult with him playing with the ends of her hair. "I fell off the monkey bars at school when I was little..." The heat only gushed off her even more.

"And y-your Rick didn't restore y-your eyesight for you later?"

Her chest felt like it was going to cave in when she finally found the courage to look him in the eye, at the way he was _fucking looking at her_ \--like his gaze was piercing right inside of her. "I don't have a Rick."

"Th-that's a shame." Then he bent down, getting eye level with her, and Morticia backed up against the wall as he leered into her face, as the heat continued to radiate off her cheeks and she thought he was going to kiss her right then and there. "I could be your Rick, if you want."

Her insides were going to constrict, and she was going to pass out, she knew it, but she remembered to breathe and sucked in air. He was so close and so in her face, she almost felt compelled to reach out, grab his collar herself and kiss him, just to end the torture that maybe he _might_ kiss her. But, she held herself back and tried the calm the beating of her heart, not knowing how to respond to what he said, but then he released his fingers from her hair before reaching down to gently take hold of her hand.

"You're r-really beautiful, you know that? I-I bet Ricks t-tell you that all the time."

She blushed again. "Not really..." And downcast her gaze. He was making her both nervous and making her heart flutter. She didn't know what to do, but she wished he would have kissed her, or that she had grabbed his face and kissed him instead. It was driving her wild now that she hadn't done it and she regretted not pulling him down and just fucking _doing it_.

"There's a second floor th-that's available i-if you pay enough money here."

Morticia's whole body grew hot.

"I-if you--you know." He grinned again. "Want to g-go to the second floor."

With his hand wrapped around hers, Morticia gripped him back and stared up at him, a smile forming on her own face. This Rick was really asking her to sleep with him? Holy shit, not many of them were that forward, or at least, this eloquent with her, and she pushed herself off the wall.

Rick made a small laugh. "I'll take that as a yes."

The upstairs was much quieter than the party going on downstairs and Morticia had no doubts there were sound barriers up all over the place. It looked like a typical hotel up there, with a long hallway of numbered rooms. Rick paid a seemingly random sum of money before grabbing their key and they made their way into the room. It was such a change of scenery from the party scene. A nice king-sized bed, a bath, and hell, they even had a kitchen. It was homely, but also empty. Not that there was a reason to decorate a place like this in the first place. Morticia doubted many people took use of this place, as she spent a lot of her time at the Creepy Morty and rarely saw anyone pay to use the upstairs.

Not that there was much of a point.

This Rick must've really wanted to show off if he went through the trouble of paying for this place just to fuck. Morticia watched as he shut the door before he turned to her and reached up, undoing the knot of his tie just slightly enough that his collar was loose and she wanted to reach up to pull him down by his hair and kiss him again at the sheer sight of it.

"Y-you sure don't look nervous or anything, sweetie. Done this type of thing before?" Although his words were nothing short of condescending, Morticia only stared up at him and smiled, feeling her heart pound all over again.

"Of course, I've done this before."

There was a moment that Rick stopped himself, just as he was about to pull his tie off and toss it to the ground, before looking down at her. Morticia had her hands placed at the button of her skirt, not sure if he wanted to strip her or if she should just drop her clothes already, but he grinned at her again before replying. "Oh, I-I bet you're really loose then." And he bent down to grip her arms and rip her away from the button of her skirt. "How many Ricks have you fucked then?"

She shrugged, as he pulled her up against him, and immediately became aware of the bulge in his pants. It wasn't unusual for her to see Ricks get this excited this quick, but she wasn't too fond of the way he was squishing her against him. She instinctively wanted to pull away from him, but he gripped her arms tighter when she resisted, only causing her pain when he dug his nails into her.

"God, th-the one rare opportunity I get to s-see a fucking Morticia, a-and you're a fucking _slut_. No wonder you were so eager t-to come up here with me. Bet your pussy won't even feel good after all th-the cock you've had stuffed in there."

Her face flushed with embarrassment, but she pulled back away from him, confused why he was grabbing her so roughly and saying these things to her. If he had no intention to fuck her after realizing he wasn't going to be the first, then why bother doing this? The way he was digging his bulge into her, she resisted at first, but he suddenly grinded up against her, and Morticia didn't mean to gasp at the feeling of it--but she bit her lip to try and swallow the sounds.

"God, e-even the noises you make, you s-sound like a whore."

His words were starting to piss her off though. No Rick had ever talked to her like this--flat out condescended her, even though they were all jackasses, she never had one call her a whore before. She lifted her head to glare at him through lidded eyes, and only watched as his grin widened.

"Yeah, that's a s-sexy look on you, baby. You like that? Like having my cock up against you? B-bet it'll feel even better inside, yeah? I-I won't even have t-to prep you, you could take it."

"No... I can't..." Her voice was low, but didn't go by unheard. It sounded so pathetic, even as she didn't once drop her glare from him.

But, he didn't stop grinning either. "Sure you can, baby. You've done it before, w-wouldn't be anything new, r-right?"

Then her face gushed red and she pushed him when she felt him grind up against her. "It was one Rick, and he didn't--didn't go inside." She could feel the heat on her face again as she admitted her shame, but he didn't let go of her. If anything, he only tightened his hold.

"I-I can't tell if you're lying or not. S-sure don't seem to be lying. G-guess I'll find out when I shove my cock inside you."

When he removed one of his hands from her arms to her skirt and ripped at the button, Morticia moved--and gripped his wrist with her free hand. "Wait!" Her voice sounded so high-pitched and strange--it was unlike her, but there was no denying how hard her heart was pounding in her chest. How tight it felt until she couldn't breathe, and how hot she was all over until she was surely going to pass out from it. "I only--I'll fuck you okay?"

He paused for a moment, looking at her like she was crazy, but his smile never faded once. "The fuck do you mean _fuck me_? Wh-what'd you even c-come up here for i-if you weren't prepared for me to fuck your pussy?"

The heat was overwhelming, but she didn't let go of his wrist, as he tried to wriggle from her grip and tear the button off. "I lied, okay. I've never had sex. I came up here, because--because I thought you wanted me to..." She trailed off, the blush coating her face until she was sure her whole body was red at this point.

Another pause, but he seemed to understand without her having to finish what she was going to say. "You thought I-I was gonna have you blow me?"

Slowly, she looked up at him, at his hard stare, at his fading grin, but slowly, she nodded.

"Well _fuck_ , if you wanted to do that from the start, why didn't you say so?" Finally, he released her, and she toppled backward, almost backing into the wall before she stopped herself and grew steady on her feet. She watched as he reached down to unhook his pants and pull his zipper down, before looking back up at her with the grin once again attached to his face. "Go ahead. I won't stop you. Your mouth is probably tighter than your pussy anyway."

Ignoring his comment, Morticia steeled herself before dropping to her knees and gripping the sides of his pants. From here, she could practically smell the cigarettes on him and the ink stains from many boring hours spent huddled inside of a boring cubicle job with his boring fucking life. No wonder he came to a place like this to play video games on week nights. He was probably a miserable piece of shit with absolutely nothing better to do.

She cringed a little as she tugged his erection from his pants before slowly closing her mouth over it. She wanted to pretend she had done this many times before and knew what she was doing, but she could hear it in the way he moaned above her, as he reached down to grip at the roots of her hair and pulled--that whatever she was doing, she'd better not stop. Morticia flinched at the feeling of her hair being pulled, but he pushed her head until she was forced down on him and she choked when his cock hit the back of her throat. Sputtering, Morticia pulled herself off him, fighting against the way he was applying force to the back of her head, trying to keep her down, but she wrestled with him until she got her mouth off, and coughed, tears forming in her eye as she gagged and coughed.

"What are you doing?" She tried to sound annoyed, and angry, but her voice only came out as a choked, slightly disheveled mess.

Rick didn't waste a second. "You wanted to suck my cock so bad, so quick fucking around a-and--and fucking _suck_ like you mean it." He then pulled at the roots of her hair again before pushing her back into his crotch until her face was shoved right up against his erection and she pushed against his thighs to resist the force he had on her, moving back away from him.

"Goddamit, _stop_! I can't fucking suck you off if you're shoving it down my throat like that, it's making me gag!"

"Little whore like you s-should know how to control your gag reflex."

"I'm not a whore!" Her cheeks flushed at the sound of her own voice while arguing back with him, she sounded so unnatural in the way she raised her voice, because it never sounded angry enough. She could never convey the emotion inside of her--even though Rick was making her want to cry with how rough he was being and how much he was expecting of her--she couldn't bring herself to do that. It only sounded pathetic coming from her.

"Th-then I'll just fuck you myself." Without waiting for her to respond, he pushed her back until Morticia was flung against the wall, and before she could recover, pressed his body up against hers to keep her in place as she wriggled and writhed underneath him. Grabbing her skirt again, he nabbed the button before tearing it off, ripping the fabric and Morticia's clothes fell around her waist where he began pulling them down to her knees.

"Stop it! Stop it, you _fucking asshole_!" She pushed against him, reaching out to grab his hair and yank, but he only laughed when she pulled, reaching up to grab her wrists and slammed her back against the wall.

"Y-you're the one wh-who came up here to get fucked. N-now you want to back out? Th-the fuck kind of g-game you think y-y-you're playing?"

"I didn't--" She choked on her words, when he released on of her wrists to rip at her underwear, and he was tearing the fabric--he was ripping her clothes off-- "I didn't know..." Her cheeks flushed red, because she couldn't even finish what she had to say.

"Y-you didn't know _what_? That the cock goes in the pussy? You think I-I brought you up here to wine and dine you or something? Y-you think w-we were gonna watch cartoons? Are you _that_ stupid? You know how much ass I get on the daily? You know how rare it is to get pussy around here?"

She just wanted to kiss him. She just wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to twirl her hair around some more and call her pretty and tell her nice things and--let her suck him off long enough for her to show him she wasn't a piece of shit and that she was worth just as much as a Morty was.

She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. He'd ripped her panties off and her clothes were crumbling down around her as he pulled her skirt off and tossed it to the side, as he placed his erection up underneath her and didn't even bother to prepare her when he only used his free hand to pull her up by her underside before shoving himself into her.

Morticia screamed. Throwing her head back, she screamed at the pain underneath her when he split her in half, when he groaned at the feeling of her around him, when she felt him fill her up all the way until there was no possible way he could have fit inside of her like that. It hurt, _it hurt_ , it hurt unlike anything she'd ever felt, and she arched backward as she wailed and he pushed into her as deep as he could go.

"Oh f-fuck, you weren't lying, you _are_ a virgin." He breathed heavy, gasping as he pulled back out, and the relief Morticia was sure would have been there because he had left her--wasn't. It only continued to hurt, even as he pushed back inside of her and she tried everything she could to curb the wails that clawed their way out of her throat. "Y-you're tight as fuck, baby."

That should have been his indication to stop, but he didn't. If he was so concerned with her being a whore, or him being her first, then what did it matter in the end? He only continued to pull in and out of her, and each time, Morticia felt as the pain slowly began to numb below her. It was hot and the pain stung unlike anything, but she sat up against the wall, in his lap, as he moved her up and down against him, as he fucked her rough without any sort of preparation or consideration. He fucked her even as she stopped wailing, even as the pain numbed only because he had hurt her so much from the start and she lay limp against him when he pulled her forward into his chest, when she gripped the front of his business suit and squeezed between her fingers, even as he moaned into her ear and fucked her up and down, in and out, way too fast for Morticia to keep up with.

Her insides were screaming, but no more sound could come out, as she sat there and let him fuck her. Maybe if he got his frustration out, she could talk to him afterward. Maybe he was stressed out from his salary job and he was taking his frustration out on her, but Morticia wouldn't have minded that so much if he had told her that from the start. To be treated so roughly after he'd put up this gentleman front was throwing her for a loop, and it wasn't even that she wasn't used to Ricks being complete dicks.

But, she never had anyone fuck her before.

And honestly, she didn't want it to be him. Even though he caught her interest, even though she followed him and watched him play video games for a while, and she thought he was handsome, and he had this amazing half smile that made butterflies grow in her stomach when he called her beautiful--she didn't want it to be like this.

But, there was nothing she could do about that now. He had himself buried deep inside of her, and she could feel her insides screeching at the strain, already stretched as far as she could go, ripped because he hadn't properly prepared her, or bothered to be gentle with her--but there was nothing to be done about that. Morticia only gripped his clothes and squeezed, riding out the pain as he gained speed beneath her, as he moaned out weird things next to her ear and breathed heavy, grunting with every thrust into her.

The pain had subsided, but he only thrust into her faster every time he pulled back out, she had no room to breathe before he had shoved himself back into her. It wasn't until she felt him breathing hard beneath her, gasping out as though he couldn't catch his breath, and began to thrust faster and faster--until she could feel it. She felt it when he came inside of her, when he moaned into her and pulled her close with an arm wrapped around her back, and she struggled to breathe as he rode out his orgasm, as he drove himself deep into her and she winced at the pain, before he stopped.

Everything stopped. Rick lay breathing underneath her, and Morticia was too afraid to make a sound as she sat in his lap, as he was frozen, still buried inside of her, his breathing relaxed until it was the only sound she could hear, and he released his grip from her. Instead, he gripped her arms and pushed her up, and she pulled herself off him as he pushed her away and her back was up against the wall again.

It was too quiet between them. It felt like so long he sat there before her, breathing, as Morticia sat clothed in nothing but her shirt in front of him before he finally stood from his spot on the floor and fixed his pants. Morticia stood as well, grabbing her panties and skirt on the way up to hide her decency as he began to dig around in his pockets for something just as she was struggling to figure out how she was going to redress herself when he'd ripped her clothes the way he had. Her panties were out of the question, there was no putting them back on, but she fixed her skirt back around her, frustrated when the button broke off and she had no way of clasping it securely around her waist.

"Here." Rick pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket before thrusting it in her direction.

Morticia stared at it. "What's that for?"

"New clothes, food, hell, I don't know. Wh-whatever the fuck you want it to be."

Her chest tightened again at the sight of the money. "You're really going to treat me like a prostitute?"

"Not m-my fault y-y-you hang out at the Creepy Morty, a _fucking strip club_ , a-and get confused when Ricks pick you up. Th-the fuck's your deal anyway? Y-you just stupid or what?"

Her face gushed red again at his words, but she swallowed and looked down to the floor. "I wondered if...maybe I could be your..." But she couldn't finish it.

"L-let me just fucking s-stop you right there." He then bent down to get level with her again, and reached out to grab her chin until she was forced to look up at him. "Y-you're obviously new to the Citadel, right? Wh-why else you got these candy ass ideas, I don't know. Ricks and Mortys don't operate together here. Nobody is going to want you. N-nobody is going to want to fucking deal with you and I mean--fuck, _look at you_. You're a Morticia. If anything, every Rick is going to have his cock out ready to fuck you because there ain't no goddamn pussy around here. Nobody's actually going to want you as their Morty, so j-just kick those ideas down the drain, yeah?"

His words should have made her upset. Hell, she should have been crying at the fact he'd just forced himself on her, but Morticia couldn't seem to bring herself to do it. Maybe that meant something was wrong with her. Maybe she was weak, or maybe she wasn't. She didn't know. His words felt heavy, like something physical, like he'd thrown something tangible onto her shoulders and it was weighing her down, and she only glared up at him as she continued to hold her skirt up with one hand clutched where the button was supposed to be. "Thank you."

That surprised him. He blinked in confusion, but shoved the money back into her chest which she took this time, not wasting a second to stuff the cash into her pocket as he began to push her toward the door. "Great, wh-whatever. Get the hell out of here now." And he shoved her out the door, slamming the door and locking it behind her.

Morticia stood out in the hallway, clutching her skirt around her, the wad of cash bulging from her pocket, and stared at the carpeted floor underneath her feet.

She wasn't sure why she thanked him, but at least his words made her realize then that Ricks were just dirty pieces of trash. They were all the same. This Rick, no matter how charming at first, was still a fucking asshole to her. And he was right honestly. They all wanted one thing from her, so she had no reason not to take advantage of it anymore. If they all wanted to fuck her so badly, then why not fuck one until he found her bearable enough to be around?

She knew what they wanted. She knew how they were.

Her legs trembled as she leaned up against the wall, clutching her clothes to hide her decency. She knew what they were capable of if they wanted. It was good to know all Ricks here were fucking pieces of shit. God, she couldn't believe she'd wasted all that time coming to this place to search for him--when he wasn't here. When nobody was going to be interested in her--when the Mortys all swooned over her and stared at her, and the Ricks eyed her like a piece of meat.

She sighed and looked down at her palm, remembering there was a shopping center not far from here where she could either get a pair of pants like the rest of them or have her skirt sewn back up. But, she liked her skirt, and she didn't want to just become _one of them_.

Morticia leaned back against the wall before she stared up at the ceiling.

She had no reason to cry.

She just wanted to kiss him and have him say he loved her. She would have said so too. But, that didn't matter. Nobody wanted her. She wasn't a Morty.

She wasn't like _them_.

* * *

 

God, was he _cute_.

Even after coming home from work, Rick scrambled to make them dinner and tidy up around the house. Morticia usually tried to clean when he wasn't home during the day, but he didn't exactly scold her for it, but she remembered the day he'd opened the door and caught her on the couch folding his laundry.

"Sweetie, no, y-you don't have to do that." Before he gently took his shirt out of her hands.

But she felt useless not doing anything all day. Was he seriously expecting her to lie around the house and watch cartoons while she waited for him to come home like a dog? The first couple of days she was there felt like she was in some kind of alternate reality. Poor joke there, but it was definitely dreamlike in a sense as she woke up in a foreign bed, sitting up to see a bedroom she wasn't used to underneath a bright yellow blanket.

And he always greeted her warmly at breakfast, preparing food for her even if she insisted she wasn't that hungry, he told her she needed to eat. Morticia was so confused by his actions at first, especially when he asked her to move in with him. It was definitely more forward than any other Rick had been to her, and she thought he was fucking with her just to be a cock, because what reason would a Rick have to be nice to her? Especially if all he wanted was to get into her skirt.

When she'd grabbed at his crotch to initiate whatever sensual evening he'd had planned for her, just to see him shrink away from her and freak the fuck out, Morticia was lost. All the other Ricks, if they had taken her to their house, always welcomed it when she initiated it. They fucking loved it. They fucking popped a boner the second she reached across the way to rub against them, but--

This Rick had rejected her.

It didn't make any sense. Surely, he couldn't be serious when he asked her to move in with him? She knew how these stupid cops operated, as this wasn't the first time she'd been arrested (but after a little private time in the holding room, she was able to get out of it), so she was certain he would take her in or abandon her after fucking her that night.

But, he didn't.

Even when she stayed awake on the couch waiting for him to drop the nice guy act and climb in bed with her--he never came to her that night. He never touched her, eyed her in that creepy way she was so used to, or even shunned her afterward and told her to get the fuck out of his apartment.

It was so fucking confusing. Because, surely this Rick couldn't have been genuine?

Surely, he couldn't have actually cared about her? That was bullshit. Ricks didn't care about Mortys, that was the only truth Morticia knew about the Citadel, and even back at home--even when she thought she knew how things worked, that wasn't how it was. The moment a Rick showed any interest in a Morty, it was because he wanted to fuck. The moment a Rick showed any attention to a Morty, it was because he wanted ass that night.

Morticia knew that was the truth.

She had come to the Citadel looking for her Rick--and he wasn't here, but she knew without a doubt all Ricks were the same and that meant that no Rick would ever consider her valuable because she wasn't a _Morty_.

It made her angry. Especially when this Rick took her out shopping--like this was some kind of goddamn party, like this was a big joke he was drawing out for way too fucking long. If he was going to drag the rug out from under her feet, why the fuck didn't he just do it and be done with her? Why didn't he just fuck her and kick her out like the rest of them did? That was something familiar at least, that was what she was used to.

The things he said to her, with that stupid look on his face, like he was so excited to have her around--like he was so happy to get to cook for someone other than himself in the mornings, and talk with someone other than himself, and be with someone other than himself--she thought he was pathetic honestly. If a Rick was truly this desperate for human interaction as to take in someone like her, he was probably a fucking loser, if he wasn't a creep.

All Ricks were bastards. He was going to turn around on her one day and kick her out. Morticia didn't have the right to get used to this place when he was going to come into her bedroom one night to fuck her, use her, and then abandon her like the rest of them did. It was inevitable.

But.

A week passed. She sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast with him, as he apologized once again for leaving her at the apartment by herself while he went off to work, but promised he would make it up to her by buying her some clothes that weekend to fill her closet up. She shrugged, not really caring what he promised her, as it wouldn't really matter in the end, but he always seemed genuine when he said so. And even if it was fake, Morticia couldn't help but feel warm when he said those things to her. When he buttered her up and told her how pretty she looked that day, when he told her to eat all she wanted from the kitchen, make herself at home, because this was her home now.

This was her home now.

Two weeks.

Morticia was in the living room eating cheetos and watching the news, which was all about politics nowadays, which she didn't give a fucking shit about, so she switched it to cartoons, now that Rick had his interdimensional cable hooked up, she could watch stuff like Tom and Jerry and stuff that wasn't just Citadel nonsense. It was weird to watch cartoons she used to watch as a kid, but she was also glad to do something like this again. It didn't necessarily bring up good memories of home, but they were memories nonetheless.

She thought about him.

She thought about Rick.

Now it had been a little over two weeks she'd been here with him, and he had yet to kick her out of his apartment, call her worthless, tell her she wasn't worth his time or investments, and fuck her before leaving. Morticia stared at the tv, not absorbing the information, but only staring at the bright colors and the movement.

Every time he came home, he had a smile on his face, and after two weeks, he started making her smile too just by mirroring his expression. Every time he came home, he never complained about work or took out his frustrations on her--he only asked her what she would like for dinner and apologized for making her stay home all day, and she shrugged to tell him it was no big deal. It was better than being on the streets.

Every day he would say something positive to her, like how bright her smile was and that it would get him through his workday, or how pretty she looked in the new yellow dress they had picked out that weekend and that she was like the sunshine while wearing it. He was so fucking cheesy, but no matter what he said to her, she smiled, she giggled, she started laughing around him.

Morticia hadn't smiled so much in so long. Not since--

Not since she'd been with _her_ Rick.

She clutched her chest as she sat on the couch, and her insides felt warm at the thought of him. At this Rick who came home smiling, apologizing, who came to check on her at night to see if she was okay if she complained about a nightmare, who fixed her favorite foods without her even asking, who seemed to genuinely enjoy her company.

Her chest ached, and she wanted to cry. But, she couldn't.

She loved him. She loved him, she _loved him_ , she _fucking loved him_.

Why would a Rick go out of his way to be kind to her like this? Maybe he cared about her, maybe he actually cared about her.

She stood from her spot on the couch, the feeling of a million butterflies fluttering around her stomach all at once, and she couldn't help but giggle at the feeling of it, because she loved him. This Rick, this weird Rick who had taken her in and given her a home and gave her a bed, she loved him. She thought the whole Citadel was a hellhole she was never going to get off of, a prison she was never going to escape with people who were never going to see her for who she was except only a fuck toy, but there he was. He was right in front of her.

He wanted her. He actually wanted her. He'd taken her in, given her her own room, fed her, clothed her, kept her safe, and she was denying it for so long, because it had to be a joke. This whole thing was a sick joke he was pulling to rip away from her and laugh about later--but she could see it now. This Rick wasn't like the rest of them. Out of the whole fucking rotten apples, there was him, and he was the only kind one, the only genuine one, the only Rick who gave a fucking shit about the Mortys around here.

Morticia was in his doorway, staring at his bed, his bed that he didn't have time to straighten that morning because he was too busy making her breakfast before he left for work. The wrinkles sheets lay in a disheveled mess and she approached his bed, noting how plain his room was. He didn't care much for knick knacks, but he was always concerned if she had enough in her room, despite it being twice as small as his.

His bed was soft, much like hers, and she reveled in the way his sheets felt beneath her. God, he smelled so good, she could smell his aftershave and hints of the shampoo he washed with lingering on the sheets that he so meticulously kept clean despite not being tidy at all. That was okay. That was more than okay, because she loved him. He was beautiful in the way that he tried to be clean for her, that he tried to tidy up more now that she was around, even though he didn't like the idea of her doing his dishes or folding his shirts, Morticia still wanted to help around the place, because this was her house too.

The scent of him was driving her wild. He slept here at night. She wanted to sleep here too. She wanted to curl up next to him and drown herself in his scent and his warmth and overwhelm herself in those senses. He was so perfect, he was so good to her, and she couldn't believe she was here in his bedroom, lying in his bed, clutching his sheets, and drowning herself in all of those scents and feelings at once.

She wanted him to tell her he loved her.

She wanted to tell him too.

She wanted him to gently brush her hair behind her ear before he pulled her clothes off and stuck his fingers inside of her. She wanted him to say everything was going to be okay as he slowly pushed his cock into her and she arched back because she loved every bit of it, and she loved him.

Morticia gripped his pillow before bringing it down until she was holding onto it, inhaling the scent of his shampoo on it. It was so thick with cream, she found herself reaching down with one of her hands to her pull her skirt up, and touched the spot between her underwear. God, she was overwhelmed with the scent of him, she felt drunk off of it. She was losing her fucking mind as she laughed at the idea she loved him, because she just didn't realize it at first. It had taken her so long to admit to herself, because she just didn't want to admit there was a good Rick out there who cared about her.

Morticia cuddled the pillow harder as she touched her clit through her panties and already she felt wet. She wanted to imagine him spooning her from behind before he reached around to take the spot of her fingers before rubbing gently. He would be so shy about it, because he was overly apologetic and he wouldn't want to hurt her, but she would beg for more, and he would rip her panties off before fucking her into the mattress.

Morticia arched her back at the thought, as she inhaled the thick cream scent on his pillow again and she was sure she was drunk now on his scent alone. The sound of the tv droned on in the other room, but she couldn't hear it. It was useless background noise as she fucked herself into his mattress, as she rubbed circles around her clit and imagined him kissing her and saying he loved her before pushing his cock all the way inside.

Clutching the pillow closer, Morticia felt it when she reached her peak, and she came, her spine arching and she spasmed out to the idea of him fucking her. She gasped, moaning his name and wishing he was here to hear how much she loved him right now. She wanted to show him how much she was in love with him, how fucking much she had just come for him, because she loved him.

It felt like a long time she sat in a daze, but Morticia brought herself out, feeling wet in her panties enough that she stood off his bed and made her way to the bathroom, cleaning herself up and blushing to the idea that he would be sleeping in the same spot she had come tonight. Maybe that would be her one day if she confessed her love for him, he wouldn't be so shy about it anymore. Maybe he would let her sleep in his bed.

Just as she finished washing her hands and emerged from the bathroom, the front door opened and he walked through the front door. The second he saw her, he smiled at her, and Morticia couldn't help herself. She was so overcome with emotion in that moment, because she loved him, that she ran over to him and flung her arms around him, buried her head into his front, and sighed because _she loved him_.

"Hi, sweetie. S-sorry to leave you a-alone for so long."

"It's fine." She released the hug long enough to pull back from him and smile back. He made a small laugh and rubbed the back of his neck as she stared at him.

"Wh-what is it?"

"Nothing." That warm feeling returned into the pit of her stomach and she couldn't help but to tell him. "I just love you, Rick."

And he made a nervous laugh, but she saw the blush coat his face as he closed the door behind him, before making a genuine smile. "Aw, I love you too, sweetie!"

Her insides felt hot all over as she watched him go to the kitchen to begin preparing dinner for them. All she did was watch him. All she did was giggle to herself and blush at the thought she loved him so much. Even when he turned to see her staring at him and she continued to smile, and he smiled back, she knew how bad it was.

And she was going to show him how much she loved him.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was so hungry for spaghetti when i wrote this   
> also  
> I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK LIKE 800 YEARS i've been so bogged down with my job i literally haven't had time to write lately bc i've been working constantly ;-;
> 
> i hope this chap makes up for it though (as something finally fucking happens here)

He should have felt bad that he fell asleep so easily when he got home that day. And he did, really he did, but it wasn't like he'd planned to plop down on the couch once he walked through the door, surprised to see Morticia once again attempting to clean his place, and he gently told her how it was okay, she didn't have to do that.

But, she just smiled back at him, and said she wanted to. He felt bad, but if she was so insistent, there wasn't much he could do about it if she wanted to clean. There wasn't much harm in what she was doing after all, it wasn't like there was something bad about cleaning--but he just felt guilty, as though the fact he'd taken her in meant she owed him--which she absolutely did not. He didn't want her to feel like she owed him anything. Especially something as stupid as cleaning.

Cleaning could wait on the weekends when he had the free time. If she wanted to help him do laundry, he would welcome that, but there was something strange about imagining Morticia doing nothing but sprucing up the place while he was gone. He'd even come home to her attempting to cook dinner for him one night--to which he had to pull her away from the oncoming flames of the stove top and then diffuse the fire alarm. Although he wasn't angry, actually flattered she had gone so far as to try and cook him something, Morticia was almost in tears she had failed that bad, and he spent the better part of his evening trying to consult her while cleaning the charred top of his stove before ordering them a pizza.

She hadn't attempted to cook since then.

The fact he wasn't angry at her seemed to be more of a surprise to her than anything. Morticia seemed to have a hard time as it was conveying herself and getting her emotions across, so for Rick to see her freak out that bad, almost on the verge of a nervous breakdown, he had to reassure her he wasn't going to throw her out just because she caught his stove on fire. It was a mistake. And mistakes can be fixed.

He remembered hugging her in the kitchen as they finished up their pizza, telling her it really was okay, and he was happy he had come home in time before things got worse and a fire broke out. When he pulled away from the hug, Morticia seemed to be frozen in some sort of hysteric state, as though the tears were stuck in her eyes and she so desperately wanted them to fall, and get emotional because of that, but couldn't for some reason.

After all, he wasn't angry. And she had every reason to be upset because she had made a mistake. It was okay, it really was. He would just teach her how to cook on his next day off and not to turn the dial all the way up to high and leave a pan sitting there for twenty minutes in the hopes it would cook the food faster.

That awful burnt smell didn't go away for days, even when he'd come home to see Morticia cleaning his kitchen and spraying air freshener around. She seemed so guilty about what had happened, and the fact the smell wasn't going away any time soon was just a constant reminder of how bad she had fucked up. But, he smiled at her, and only told her it was okay.

The night he fell asleep on the couch was when the smell was finally gone from the apartment. He'd come home, blisters on his feet from running around on errands all day, and tired as fuck. Rick couldn't remember the last time he was this exhausted from his job, but he remembered seeing Morticia smile up at him as he entered through the door, and he could never miss the opportunity to give her a gentle smile in return. She really was a good girl.

"Hey, sweetie."

"I made you dinner." And she really did this time. He saw a plate of spaghetti set out for him on the table and it made his chest swell at the sight of it. Morticia stood off to the side, twiddling her fingers as though nervous and awaiting his approval, but he smiled at her.

"It looks s-so good! Wow, you did this all by yourself?" Walking toward the table, he pulled his coat off, hooking it onto the back of his chair as Morticia scurried in behind him and sat across the table from him, still staring at him as though gauging his reaction. Just because the food looked good didn't mean it tasted good. He almost wanted to laugh at how she was acting, basing all her actions solely on how he himself reacted. She never broke her stare, looking so nervous as he picked up his fork and twirled the noodles around before taking a bite. A little tough, but definitely not bad. He gave her a reassuring smile before speaking. "It's delicious! Wow, I can't believe you made this."

And her face gushed red. There was no way he couldn't notice that as she finally relaxed in her seat, her posture sinking as she slacked back and let out a sigh. "I watched the...Morty cooking channel. They were doing some pasta dishes today, but I didn't have all the ingredients." Her blush deepened and he continued eating.

She twiddled with her fork, but only picked at her noodles, mostly watching him as he ate, as though studying each way he lifted the fork into his mouth, every bite he took, she watched. "Do you...really like it?"

"I-I-I love it! I'm impressed you've improved this much. Maybe one day, you--you could be on that cooking channel." He gave her another smile as he finished off his pasta, and he watched as Morticia sank into her seat even more, the blush coating her face all the way up to her ears. She was so red, she dipped her head down and began to twirl the ends of her hair nervously as she giggled.

"Thank you..."

Despite his protests, Morticia insisted she clean up the kitchen and do the dishes. Before he knew it, Rick was plopped down on the couch, watching the news, and began to drift off to the sound of the news anchor Rick's voice, along with the water running in the background behind him. The exhaustion caught up to him way too fast and before he knew it, his head was slung over the back of the couch and he had fallen asleep.

It must've been one hell of a nap, because before he knew it, he woke up to the darkened room of his apartment, the tv still blaring random crap in the background, the light flickering being his only light source at the moment, a stream of drool running down the side of his mouth, and Morticia straddling his lap--

"Swee...tie?" His voice was hoarse as he came from sleep and reached up to wipe his mouth, not sure if he was dreaming or imagining things in his exhausted state. Even with his nap, he was fucking tired as all fuck, and would like nothing more than to lie down on his couch and fall back asleep, but--

With Morticia leaning into his face, her outline unmistakable from the flashing lights of the tv straight behind her, he found himself frozen in his position. She stared at him with that lidded expression as always, but he couldn't quite place the look on her face. Her hair was messy, and he could smell the fresh scent of her shampoo from a recent shower, and she was dressed in her night clothes, obviously preparing for bed some time ago.

But, she reached up to him and gripped the side of his face, to which he froze at, still groggy, still trying to come from sleep and process what was happening right now. "A-are you..." He was trying to ask if she was okay, but she cut him off.

" _Perfect_." Her lidded eye looked so strange to him in that moment, as though she were about to drift off to sleep, but she stroked the side of his face she was clinging to, and Rick felt his spine freeze and he stiffened. "You're so perfect, Rick. I keep meaning to tell you, but it never seems to be the right time." She smiled, but for some reason, he felt incredibly uncomfortable having her smile at him that way. "I love you so much, Rick." And she leaned into him, her mouth parted, and he panicked in that moment when he knew she was about to put her mouth on his.

Jerking, not meaning to fling his head to the side to fast, as he might accidentally bash her face, he pulled away from her, and tried to laugh, tried to sound nonchalant, but his laugh was the most pathetic, shaky sound he'd ever heard dribble out of his own mouth. "I-I-I love you too, s-s-sweetie, wh-why-why d-d-don't you head on t-t-to bed?" And he was stuttering so much more now that he was nervous and trying to laugh at the same time, especially when he was trying to pretend nothing was wrong.

Maybe she was having some kind of messed up night terror or something. Or maybe she'd had a nightmare and was sleepwalking? But, he'd never seen her sleepwalk around the apartment before. Sometimes she stared at him for long periods of time, and it made him uncomfortable at first, but he got used to it. That was just the way Morticia was.

But, there was no mistaking the way she was leaning into him, stroking the side of his face, and he could even feel her grinding into him while she sat on his lap.

Her smile never faltered. "I'm not sleepy." She tried to subtly lean into him again, but he dodged her.

Now he was getting nervous enough that his whole body was shaking and it was impossible to hide from her. There was no way she wasn't going to feel the way his whole body was vibrating underneath her, but he was starting to lose control of the situation--whatever kind of situation this was. "I-I-I don't care i-if you stay up a-and watch tv. Y-you can sleep on the--on the couch." Again, he was laughing, but it was coming out so shaky it sounded like he was actually crying. Rick didn't want to admit he was at a loss for what to do. He had woken up to Morticia straddling his lap and trying to kiss him, and he didn't know how to handle it.

She was just confused--that was it. Maybe she saw something on tv earlier that day and she wanted to experiment with kissing or something like that. She was a teenaged girl after all, and it couldn't have been easy for her to live on the Citadel like this, being surrounded by boys literally everywhere she went who were probably only after one thing--if that. Maybe that's all she knew.

There were no other Morticias here for her to relate to. There were no other girls.

Rick began to sweat at the implications of what that meant exactly. From the time Morticia came here, she was doomed from the start. If she was this forward like this, maybe that's all she knew how to be, because the other Ricks taught her to be that way.

He let out an inward sigh and tried to think of something to say to her, something that would make her come to her senses. Morticia didn't really want this. This was just what she had been taught to do. Rick opened his mouth, "Morti, I--" But he was cut off.

It was a split moment when he saw her expression lift, that split moment life rushed into her eye, and she flew into him, and before he could stop her--she kissed him. Rick was thrown off by how much force she put into it, not expecting Morticia to be that strong when she held onto the sides of his face and almost knocked his head onto the back of the couch as she flung him backward, kissing him like she was starved for him.

He grunted inside of her for a moment, too shocked to react at first, too shocked to move, to say anything, his brain having not caught up with what was actually happening as Morticia held him back against the couch, grinding against his lap--very much directly onto his crotch, and she moaned into his mouth.

She pulled away from him, her lips moist and flushed red as she smiled up at him once again with a lidded expression as Rick could do nothing but stare in shock, frozen in his seat. Morticia giggled. "You called me Morti. _You actually called me Morti_. Nobody's...nobody's called me Morti since my Rick..." And leaned back into him for another kiss.

Rick panicked, his senses returning when he realized she was going to go at him again and he pushed against her, holding her back by placing his hand flat against her shoulder and pushing. "No, stop, y-you don't--you don't know what you're doing--" His voice was still shaky, but now he'd composed himself long enough to realized he needed to unfuck this situation right the hell now. If Morticia kept going at him like this, she was going to regret it.

"Of course I know what I'm doing. I used to do it all the time."

That is not at all what he meant, but the way she said that--it only confirmed his fears that Morticia had been conditioned to do this kind of thing for other Ricks, and maybe she thought that's what he wanted of her this whole time. She thought he only wanted to fuck her so that he could abandon her later.

Rick felt his face heat up as he continued to push at her. Morticia pushed against the weight he was holding against her shoulder, the flush on her face prominent as she smiled up at him, and he was thrown off by how much strength she had. Maybe he had lacked in his training to be struggling with her like this--or maybe he had just severely underestimated her.

While he struggled with her, trying to push her off of him long enough for him to stand off the couch enough where he had some more control back, he felt it when her hand grabbed at his crotch and Rick screeched out at the feeling he didn't expect to come so suddenly. "STOP! I-I'M NOT--" He quickly reached over to grab her wrist and pull it away from his crotch, to which she giggled at him for, still pushing at him to reach in close and kiss him again. Panicking, only a little, but he was still panicking at how lightly Morticia was taking this situation, how this was some kind of game to her. How hard she was fighting him and how much he was struggling to hold her back. It was freaking him out how easily Rick was losing control, especially to her. He just didn't expect her to be-- "I-I promise I didn't bring you here t-to have sex with you, sweetie, I-I wouldn't do that to you. I don't know who's hurt you, b-but-but, I promise I would never do that to you. I-I'm not asking sex from you in exchange for you t-to live with me."

The way Morticia fell limp against him was something he didn't expect, but to see her smiling face, so full of jest in the way she was teasing him, fall suddenly until it looked like she was about to burst into tears as he held her away with one hand, while his other was gripping hold of her wrist to keep her from grabbing at his pants--Morticia suddenly looked so lost again. Like when he'd first found her, so emotionless after she had beat a Morty senseless, so angry at him as though not believing him when he said she could live with him, to now looking hurt and lost he had rejected her. It broke his heart and he didn't know why.

He could see tears well up in her eye, but she only stared at him. "But..." She swallowed. "Rick, I love you..." And her words choked as she struggled to get them out.

"I-I love you too, sweetie. I do. But..." He fought for what to say, what the right thing to say was so she would understand that this wasn't right. She was just confused, and he wasn't going to take advantage of her like this. "You can't do this. I'm your grandpa. I-it wasn't right what those other Ricks did to you--and--and I would never hurt you like that."

"You aren't _mine_." She looked away from him then, her face gushed red, but no longer that playful blush she was sporting earlier. Morticia looked ashamed and embarrassed. "You aren't my Rick. Stop acting like it's so fucking bad when you aren't _my Rick_. The others got that."

"Th-they were wrong, sweetie."

It had been over a month Rick had taken Morticia in, and in that months’ time, he hadn't once seen her cry. There were a few times she had gotten emotional over something, or embarrassed, but not once did she break down crying in front of him. For a while, Rick thought maybe she was incapable of it, but he sat there, feeling his stomach coil in on itself as Morticia sat in his lap, and the tears poured from her one visible eye. It was as though months of bent up frustration and agony were coming out all at once, in one fell swoop.

He felt his heart break all over again when she turned to look at him, tears pouring from her one good eye, and she asked in a broken voice, "Why doesn't anyone want me?"

Rick's whole body melted under her gaze, as she cried in his lap, her expression blank, but the tears falling as though nothing could stop them. His instinct was to reach up when he let go of her wrist and he cupped the side of her face, his chest constricting each time he watched as more tears fell. "Sweetie, don't, d-don't say that."

But, she lowered her head, her tears falling onto him and he could feel his clothes grow wet as she cried and cried. "Nobody will ever love me, Rick. My Rick abandoned me. He didn't love me. I came here to look for him because I loved him so much, and I finally--" She swallowed, her words choking as she struggled to speak. "I finally found a place full of Ricks. I thought if I threw myself out there and fucked them, they would take me in, because I was worth something to them then." She looked back up at him, her eye already swollen and red from crying, but the tears didn't stop. "So why don't any of them want me?" Reaching up, she dragged the tips of her fingers over his knuckles as he cupped her face. "You don't want me either."

"Of course I want you..." But somehow, for him to say that, he felt guilty saying it that way. This wasn't supposed to be what he said. Rick was only saying what she wanted to hear, to calm her down now.

"Then why won't you fuck me?" She pulled his hand away from her face, and wiped at her eye, smearing the tears across her cheek. "If you--If you really wanted me here, you'd fuck me, Rick."

That horrible knot rolled up into his stomach again and he felt like throwing up, but he swallowed and tried to remain calm. "It's _wrong_. Sweetie, th-that's wrong. Y-you're not supposed to--to do that..." The sweat accumulated at his neck so much, he felt like he was drowning in his own sweat at this point, but he didn't know what to say to calm her down anymore. Morticia was too emotionally compromised at this point, and he knew the moment he said so, she was only falling down deeper than before.

"You lied. You said you loved me."

"I-I do!" His voice was shaking again, almost growing with hysteria, but he was losing control of literally everything right now. He felt compelled to grab her and throw her off, but he didn't want to hurt her either. Talking to her was only making things worse, and so Rick sat there shaking and fumbling for what to do. "S-sweetie, I do love you, I just--"

"Then fuck me." Again, she looked up at him, the tears finally stopped, her eyes red, and her cheeks flushed, but she didn't break her stare.

Rick shrank back underneath her gaze, feeling completely powerless beneath her stare no matter what he did. He suddenly felt like his whole body was made of jelly and he couldn't move. He had lost control a long time ago, but he didn't realize it was going to be taken from him so quickly like this. No matter what he struggled to come up with in his head to say to her, everything he thought of only ended with Morticia getting upset with him again. It only ended with her storming out of the house because she didn't believe he wanted her there. Everything ended with Morticia breaking down and crushing the life he'd tried to build for her here. A life he just wanted for her where she could be safe. Where she could be herself. Where she could feel loved after being shot down into the ground so much. Where nobody, especially him, could hurt her.

And he sank down in his seat, shaking underneath her as she stared at him, her expression blank, her eyes lidded, but she wasn't crying anymore. She only looked at him expectantly. "Sweetie, I..." He bit his lip, the knot in his stomach making him wish he could vomit. "I...I can't..."

No matter what she said to him, what kind of damage he might do by telling her these things, if she ran away from him because he had rejected her, there was no way Rick could ever do something like that to her. Even if she begged him. Even if she got on her hands and knees and begged him. He couldn't do that to her.

He couldn't hurt her like that.

She was already fucked up. She didn't need Rick fucking her up even more.

"Then..." She looked off in silence for a moment, and Rick breathed heavy underneath her, suddenly very aware of her weight on top of him, even though she wasn't heavy at all, it was suddenly something he was aware of. How still she had gotten. How unmoving she was when she refused to cry again, when she looked off with a blank expression, her eyes lidded once again as though contemplating, and it felt like hours he sat there feeling as though he couldn't breathe beneath her that she finally looked up at him again, and she said without hesitation, "I'll just fuck you then."

It threw him off. He hadn't expected her to say that, much less move her weight back onto him, and go for his pants once more, but the initial shock was over much more quickly this time when he felt her reach for his pants and undo his zipper and he reached out to grab at her wrists. "Stop! You d-don't know what you're doing!"

"Of course I do, I've done this before." She struggled through his grip on her wrists to reach his pants, and he panicked again.

"I-I-I don't mean that, I mean--y-you're confused, y-you don't--you're going t-to wake up tomorrow and regret th-that you did this, y-you're g-going to hurt yourself--"

And she looked up at him, the tips of her fingers brushing right against his crotch. "You wouldn't hurt me, right, Rick?"

He froze, way too much, as she wrestled her grip from his wrist in the moment he sat stunned at her accusation enough for her to unzip his pants, but the sound brought him back and he reached out with both hands to grip her shoulders and pushed her off him.

Or tried to, at least.

He didn't want to hurt her, that was true. He pushed, but she held steady, and didn't budge from her spot. It was true he hadn't pushed hard enough because he was scared of hurting her, but the look on her face when he did grip her shoulders--she only gave him a small smile before leaning into him and kissed the inside of his neck. Rick was thrown off yet again and froze in his spot when he felt the warmth of her mouth as she began to suck the side of his throat and he hadn't meant to.

He really didn't mean to when the feeling of her mouth against him in that particular spot made his pants grow tighter, and he knew she felt it above him.

"You _do_ love me, Rick..." And her hand came down to touch him--he shivered at the feeling of the tips of her nails dragging across his crotch. He thrust into her at the feeling--and goddammit, he didn't mean to, he breathed heavy, choking on his own breath, and felt his face flush at the thought that he had just thrust up against her. She gasped above him when he did, when she bobbed in his lap, and he wanted to cover his mouth to keep from vomiting. Why in the fucking hell did he do that? He was trying to get her off him--but he couldn't help the initial reactions of his body, with her mouth against him like that, with the way she was sitting on him, and the way she so gently touched him like that--she really had done this before, as she wasn’t shy at all, but he pushed at her again when she leaned back into him to try and kiss him again.

"Y-you need to stop, okay? And--a-and go back to your room, i-it's--y-you _can't_ do this, Morticia." But, no matter what he said to her, his voice was shaking too much, he had no more power in what he said. And maybe he never had power before. Maybe he only thought he did. Morticia pushed back when he tried another meager attempt to climb out from under her, and she was pushing him back against the couch.

"Are you just shy, is that it?" She let out a giggle, but he felt his stomach churn at the sound of it when she grinded herself against his crotch, and he had to bite his bottom lip to keep from thrusting up into her again. He was sweating, losing his resolve, and he would have been lying if he said that the movements she made, the noises, the goddamn way she leaned into him to breathe against his neck, didn't make him want to fuck her right now.

But, he couldn't do that, he could _not_ do that. There was no way Rick could fuck her up any more than she already was, no way he could stoop that low and hurt her like the others did. He felt his chest constrict as she leaned into him again to breathe on his neck and he choked on himself.

It would be all his fault if Morticia got hurt because of this.

He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't know if he could live with himself if he knew he had hurt her because of this.

Looking up at her, at her flushed face as she grinded back on him, as he fought the urge to thrust back into her so hard, he thought he was going to bite the blood from his lip doing so--he was surprised at the sound of his own voice coming out, so pathetic and quiet, but there. "Sweetie, wh-why do--do you want this?"

And her reply was instant. "Because I love you." She smiled.

"Y-you don't _know_ what love is. You don't want this. P-please, i-if you keep going, y-you're going to--"

And she kissed him again, stopping him as he couldn't fight the urge to thrust up into her anymore and she moaned when he finally stopped himself from holding back and grinded into her, gripping the sides of her arms and he held onto her.

"Sweetie, please-- _please_ , go--go t-to bed, okay?" He pulled away only to be met with her smiling face as she reached down to his pants and fumbled with his zipper once again, brushing her hands over his erection and causing him to flinch back as he felt the heat collect on his face. "I-I don't want to hurt you."

"You're _not_ hurting me, Rick. I want this."

He didn't know what to do. If he pushed her away, he risked upsetting her again, or hurting her if he got too physical. Nothing he said would talk her down from this. Morticia was determined to do this, and he watched as she lifted her night shirt up ever so slightly, just enough that he could see she hadn't worn any underwear, and she smiled at him.

"You won't hurt me, Rick. I've done this before."

But, he was shaking, watching as she moved herself on top of him, right where he could feel as she positioned herself at the tip of his erection. " _Don't_ , sweetie--M-Morti--"

And she sank down onto him, the noise she made crushing his heart as she strangled a gasp from her mouth, as he felt her take him all in, and he knew it was too much, he felt her sink only halfway onto him, feeling the heat of her around him, before she stopped herself, grabbing his shoulders and squeezing so hard, he felt her nails dig into him as she gasped and her breath caught in her throat.

He saw the look of pain on her face she was fighting so hard to hold back, the way she squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to take him all in, the way her breaths came out in short heaves, and he sat frozen for only a moment, the urge to thrust into her all but gone when he saw that look on her face--and he grabbed her arm, trying to pull her off him.

"M-Morti, get off now, y-you're hurting yourself, y-you're hurting--"

"It's _fine_." Her voice was so oddly low, so serious and almost angry, that it made him freeze as he gripped onto her arm, and she glared up at him through her lidded eye. "I can take it. D-don't fucking patronize me."

"I'm..." He swallowed. "Sweetie... Please, don't do this."

Ignoring him, she waved his grip off her arm as she balanced herself back on him, and he had to bite back the moans he so desperately wanted to let out with the feeling of her around him like this. She moved then, up off him and he felt the warmth around him leave for only a moment before she had pushed herself back down onto him, and he could feel how desperate she was to take him in--could hear her breath hiss through her teeth as she struggled to keep the pain in check, as she fought to move up and down him.

But, he hadn't prepared her.

She hadn't used any lube.

She was taking him dry, without any preparation--and that horrified him. Was this the way she was taught? It was going to destroy her, she was going to be ruined tomorrow because of him--because he had to go and get hard.

What had those Ricks done to her to make her do this?

"I..." Her voice came out breathy as she moved up and down him, eyeing him through her lidded eye as she came down onto him and he grunted as he unwillingly thrust up inside of her then. "You want to talk down to me...you think I can't take it, but..." And she shivered above him as he held onto her to keep her steady, trying not to, but feeling how desperate he was in the way he moved with her--how bad he wanted to come into her. But fuck, he didn't want to at the same time. He was hurting her. "Rick, you don't know, but..." Her voice broke off as she moved up and down him, each movement causing her to let out a breathy moan. "I like...the pain... It makes me feel good..." And she giggled then, the sound of it, the way she smiled at him then, he almost pushed her back off him.

Because this was fucked up.

He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't have let her corner him like this and hold him down to the couch. He should have said something different, or gone about this situation another way--somehow.

Rick didn't want things to end up like this. He didn't want to be here, fucking himself inside of her and wishing she would move a little faster, because god, the friction was too much. The way she shivered above him was too much, and he gripped onto her as though she was going to blow away from him.

He was supposed to be helping her, he was supposed to be protecting her--letting her live here wasn't some fucked up payment for her to fuck him in return. He wouldn't do that, especially not to a Morticia. He just wanted her to be happy. He wanted to try and give an unfortunate Morty another chance to have some semblance of what could be happiness here on the Citadel.

He shouldn't have been here, as she leaned into him again, and kissed his neck, breathing on the spot and making him shiver. He gripped the back of her and held onto her, pulling her close to him, and began to shake. This was fucking wrong. This was wrong. He was hurting her.

"M-Morti..." He was fucking his granddaughter.

"God, Rick, I love you." She whispered into his ear and he felt it when she began to increase her rhythm onto him, moving up and down more frantically, and he knew he wasn't going to last long like this. "You're perfect, Rick. You're so much better than those other Ricks. You're perfect. You're the only perfect one and _I love you_." She reached up to grip the back of his hair and squeezed only slightly.

But it was enough. And Rick couldn't hold back anymore. He thrust into her harder than he meant when he came, when he gripped her around her back and held her close to him so that she moaned.

He loved her too. He loved her.

But not like this.

This was wrong and he was wrong. Morticia was confused--she had been hurt by bad people and they fucked her up enough for her to think she was in love with him.

But, she wasn't.

When he came inside of her, releasing it all, he felt her grip his roots before she bobbed herself up and down him again and she tightened around him. He could feel her. He _felt_ it when she came, when she moaned in his ear, and she spasmed in his hold. He felt it when she moved her face into the crooked of his neck and opened her mouth on him as she pulled his hair--as he felt her scrape her teeth against his skin, and he froze. He didn't dare move when he felt her do this, but all she did was kiss him when she came down from her orgasm. When he came down in the few moments everything felt it was okay--but it wasn't anymore.

He had fucked her.

He fucked her.

He fucked his granddaughter-- _he hurt her_ \--he had done this.

And she pulled back away from him, her face flushed from the haze of orgasm and she smiled up at him.

The only thing Rick was aware in that moment was overwhelming guilt. He began to shake underneath her, even as she continued holding him, and he thought he was going to break down into hysterics right then and there--especially with the feeling that he was still inside of her, even as she moved to kiss at his neck again. "I-I'm sorry, sweetie, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry." He couldn't stop apologizing for this.

Because he had _hurt her_.

But, Morticia only leaned away from him, and smiled at him again, before gently pulling herself off him, and she pulled him out of her with a sickening pop that made him want to retch at the sound, as she settled herself back down in his lap as he stared ahead past her at the shadows the television created onto his carpeted floor.

"It's cute that you're so shy, Rick. I love you." And she rested her head against his chest, where he had no doubt she could hear his pounding heart that was beating so fast from the sheer terror and guilt he was feeling right now.

He wasn't sure how long she had lie there against him, but he soon heard the slow, steady sounds of her breathing as she drifted off to sleep, but he lay there frozen on his spot on the couch, exhausted, terrified, and feeling lower than shit like he never thought possible.

He looked down at her, at her sleeping face that rested against his chest, and she looked so peaceful, but he only felt the knot well up in his stomach at the sight of her like this--because he had hurt her. If those other Ricks hurt her this bad that she was confused, then he had done something wrong to even further confuse her to make her go and do something like this.

The television droned on and on in the background, the light flickering on in the dark living room as it cast shadows over the furniture and Morticia's sleeping form.

Rick didn't move a muscle--didn't dare wake her as she slept lying against him like this. He couldn't sleep--couldn't move or muster the courage to even breathe hard enough with her on top of him like this. He lay staring at the television for hours, but not absorbing any of what he was actually seeing.

All he could think of was that he had fucked her up even more--he had destroyed her, because he hurt her.

Rick had hurt her.

This was all his fault.

 


End file.
